Cost of a Life Debt
by SiriuslySeverus
Summary: After the war is over, Severus Snape lays claim to a life debt owed to him by one Harry Potter. Ch 10 Harry has visitors. NO SLASH. Pre HBP
1. The Meeting

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I just let my imagination play with him a little. :whistles innocently:

The Cost of a Life-Debt

Chapter 1

It was finally over. Seventeen year old Harry had defeated the Dark Lord and lived to tell the tale. And tell it he did. Weeks of wizarding press conferences had left Harry feeling more drained and disjointed than after he took his N.E.W.T.s. He found himself looking forward to the peaceful quiet of a life hidden from all society both Muggle and Magical. He had done his duty, he had saved the world, he just wanted to live in peace, he was just about ready to go…and he had just been called into Albus Dumbledore's office. Somehow Harry did not find that to be a good sign.

He was right.

When Harry reached his old headmasters office (Twinkies) he was both shocked and slightly annoyed to see his old potions professor sitting across from Dumbledore. It was true that Harry and Snape had gotten along better in the last couple years; Harry even found that he had built up a deep respect for the overgrown bat, but the initial reaction upon seeing the man still stood. Five plus years of unearned animosity was hard to completely put behind you.

Harry was startled to find that he had attracted the attention of both the men. Harry realized that he had been standing in the doorway for quite some time, lost in his memories. He slightly shook his head to clear it and strode into the room to stand across from Dumbledore, the old man's desk separating them.

"Professor," Harry said respectfully greeting his potions teacher before extending the greeting to Dumbledore. "Headmaster."

"Harry, why don't you have a seat, my boy. There is something that we must discuss." The lack of a twinkle in the headmaster's eyes did not ease Harry's apprehension regarding the upcoming conversation. He looked carefully at the two older men, but their faces gave no hints as to the subject before him.

"Not to be rude, headmaster, but I would rather stand. I have almost finished packing, and I do not wish to stay longer than necessary." Something akin to dismay crossed the headmaster's face, but before Harry could decipher what the expression could denote it disappeared. Fearful at what it could signify, Harry found himself rambling.

"I did it, Headmaster. I killed Voldemort. I fought and helped the ministry imprison his followers. I fulfilled the prophecy. I just finally got my life back. There can't be more. I thought that after all of that I would finally be free to leave it all behind me. There just can't be more…Can there?" the words tumbled out of his mouth uncontrolled. Unable to hold the headmaster's steady gaze, Harry turned to look at Snape. His face was stony, his eyes hard and expressionless. Harry found himself struggling to breathe normally. He ran his fingers back through his hair as he tried to regain control of himself.

The office was silent. When Harry finally turned back to Dumbledore, the old man finally spoke.

"Harry, I have told you before… please call me Albus. I am not your headmaster any longer." Silence. Dumbledore continued. "I really think it would be best if you sat down." He said folding his hands together and setting them on top of his desk.

Harry was losing his temper. All he desired to achieve was leave, go someplace quiet, and get out of the wizarding spotlight. Somehow he got the impression that he was not going to get what he wanted. Harry was getting frightened at the thought of what could be so serious as to require a meeting of him and the two somber professors. Harry did not do afraid very well, he was becoming angry…and he was most certainly not sitting down.

"Answer me this than, _Albus_, am I here to be informed of yet another life changing decision being imposed on me without my consent?" He hissed, his irritation coming out in his tone, but otherwise keeping himself under control.

"I would not have put it so bluntly, Harry, but it will be a bit of an adjustment." Albus said calmly as he leaned back in his chair.

Harry knew that if he tried to speak he would lose it, and he did not relish throwing a childish tantrum in front of the ever cool and collected Snape. So Harry just glared at the headmaster willing the old man to quit dancing around the subject that Harry would eventually hear anyway.

"My boy." The headmaster ignored Harry's sigh at the title. "Professor Snape has informed me that he has saved your life on a number of occasions…"

Harry nodded his annoyance at the situation had drained away at those words leaving him baffled. "Sir, I expect that you have known that for quite some time. I mean, even when he truly hated the sight of me he always seemed to watch out for me. Thank you for that, by the way, professor." A confused Harry turned to look at Snape, but the professor just calmly stared back. Not finding any answers from the man, Harry turned back to Dumbledore. "Sir, please, no more riddles. I just finally took care of the last one." He continued trying to ease the tension in the room. "Just tell me straight out. Why am I here?"

"Harry, have you heard of a life-debt?" The headmaster questioned, his eyes weary.

"Yes, of course, sir. I learned about it…" He had learned about it his first year. It was the reason Snape had saved him from Quirrel. Snape had paid the life-debt he owed to Harry's father. Somehow it felt wrong to bring it up. Harry had been getting along with the surly man, he had no desire to bring up past grievances, and anything to do with James would irritate Snape. "Please continue sir."

"When he saved your life recently it placed you in his debt. Professor Snape has deemed it time to collect payment on that debt." The headmaster's voice was level.

Harry blinked in surprise at the turn of the subject. "I...I must say it's unexpected, but I have no issue with paying my debts. I do not understand why you are so solemn, in actuality it is good timing. I would rather fulfill my obligations before I leave, otherwise it might be a bit difficult to get in contact with me. What is it that I can do for you professor?" Harry smiled at the man, relief flooding through his system. What ever help Snape required could not be too detrimental. It was not as if Harry had to slay another dark lord, or be under someone's thumb for years on end as they claimed to be protecting his life. No, this Harry could handle.

Harry turned to his professor expecting an answer. When none was forthcoming he furrowed his brow and glanced between the two older men. "Professor?" He asked tentatively. Still no sound was uttered from the man. "Headmaster, what is going on here?"

Albus sighed, "Harry, Severus has asked for the repayment of the life-debt with your servitude."

Harry's eyes narrowed into slits as he dissected the headmaster's statement. "Servitude…doing what exactly? For how long? I don't understand." He was weary of trying to second guess what was going on, and the longer the conversation went on, the less Harry thought he would like the outcome when it was all said and done.

"For the rest of your life, Harry, or until the debt is repaid." Albus did not meet his eyes, and after that statement Harry could not even bring himself to look at Snape.

The room felt as if it was getting hotter, and yet waves of cold seemed to be coursing down his spine. Servitude, for life? Snape was going to make him a slave. Harry Potter the house elf. Was this just some vindictive plot to get back at His father? Harry had thought that with all he and his professor had been through…that they had gotten past that. If they hadn't, there were other was Snape could have made Harry's life miserable. Snape knew more about Harry than even his two best friends did thanks to occlumency. Harry was certain there were loads of reporters who would pay handsomely for just a snippet of what Snape knew about Harry's life. Surely he could get more profit from the destruction of Harry that way, and Harry truly would not even mind. He had plans to leave the whole magical world behind anyway.

That did not seem to be an option any more. Harry was not lying when he said that he paid his debts, although he did have an issue with how he was to pay it.

"Professor? Why? I thought you would be glad to be rid of the insufferable Harry Potter. What's this game you're playing?" Harry said, still too shocked to be angry.

The dark man said nothing. His silence began to infuriate Harry. Before he had been confused with the lack of dialogue on Snape's part, but in light of this revelation... Harry began to see the man's silence as something altogether unappealing. Did Snape already regard Harry as a servant? Was the man too good to talk to a future slave? The professor's silence is what really convinced Harry that this was not some horrible joke, convinced Harry that he was truly losing the freedom that he had been so close to acquiring.

"Would that I had died in battle than to be another man's slave! Obviously ridding the world of its Dark Lord was not enough, what more can I do before my damnable life is my own." Harry said with fire in his voice before turning his back on the two men to hide the betrayal etched in his face.

"Harry, are you refusing payment for your debt." Albus said not unkindly, but there was a slight hardness in his voice.

"No," He whispered not turning around. Harry knew the consequences of such defiance. If Harry outright refused to comply, Snape would have every right to have him thrown into Azkaban; and if that wasn't enough, it was a well known fact that any wizard who broke a life debt would began to lose control of his magic. Harry had heard stories of powerful wizard who refused such terms. Their spells would go awry, and with time would even turn on the wizard. Even wizards who gave up their magic to escape the debt would find that luck forsook them, and they would end life on their knees. A life debt was made to be paid.

That did not stop Harry for wanting to rage at the men before him. The knowledge of the futility of argument did not make it any easier to comply with such demands. Harry closed his eyes; it would not do to blow up. Angering the man who claimed ownership of Harry's life was not the way to secure a good future, but damn it was hard.

Harry did not know how long it was before he was in control enough to speak, but after a time he finally turned to face the two men. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"You claimed to have practically concluded your packing." Snape finally spoke. At Harry's slow nod the man continued. I will give you two hours to complete it and to say your farewells. I will expect you back here at that time, your possessions in hand. Do not be late," he said evenly. "Go."

Harry left the office and ran past the gargoyle as fast as he could manage, collapsing to his knees further into the dark corridor that led to his room. Harry slid from his knees and sat up against the cold stone wall wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his head on his knees. He felt sick, as if everything he had eaten only a few hours ago was about to defy his stomach's attempts to keep it down. He had two hours of freedom before his life was over, and Harry felt too dizzy to even pick himself off the floor.

AN: Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!


	2. Two hours of freedom

Hey, okay I have gotten a few questions about where I am taking the fic. First, this will not be slash. Sorry to all those who want it, I just don't write it. There are really too many of those out in FF.N land as it is in my humble opinion, and most are very poorly done...no offense to slash followers. :)

As for COALD, thisstory just came to my mind after coming up with the phrase, _A good spy is one who could save your life when by all appearances he seems to destroy it_. I could just totally see Severus in the roll.

I hope that clears some things up. Anyway, on with the story.

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Cost of a Life-Debt

Chapter 2

It was ten minutes before Harry could bring himself to return to his room, and another five before he could force himself to start packing. Time seemed to be going so fast Harry could not even comprehend how he was to be ready to give up his entire life so soon. He briefly entertained the notion of running away, but even if he was not caught and imprisoned, the effects of his magic turning against him might end up harming more people than himself. Harry was tired of people getting hurt because of him, sick of it because of the many fatalities he saw during the war. No longer caring about the order and organization of his belongings, Harry threw the rest of his stuff into his trunk. Finally with a shrinking and a feather-light charm his trunk was stored away in his pocket and Harry was on his way to find Ron and Hermione.

Harry left the rooms that had been his during the month that had past since he had graduated with an almost longing look. It struck him as rather ironic that for someone who was in such a hurry to leave not more than an hour ago, he now sure wanted to grasp hold of the carpet and not allow himself to be drug from the place...but Harry was older than that. He had to let go.

Besides, Harry thought that there must be any number of people who wanted Snape dead. It would probably be less than a month before someone tried to off his old professor, than he could fulfill the rest of the debt without resorting to life-long servitude. Yes, Severus Snape had a lot of enemies.

Oh that was sad, Harry realized, to actually hope that someone would try to kill the man just so Harry could save his life. The young wizard looked around and saw that he had unconsciously followed his feet to the Great Hall. It was almost dinner; obviously his stomach was in control of his feet. Well, Harry was in no way ready to handle food; he was still trying to keep his lunch down, but it was not unlikely that either Ron or Hermione might be taking a meal inside. Shaking his head clear he stepped inside to look around. The room was empty. The undecorated walls brought back memories, and Harry found himself back in his first year. He was so young, so afraid, so hopeful, ready to prove to the world that he belong, and yet so afraid that he wouldn't. How long ago that was, and yet wasn't it just yesterday that his uncle had torn up his first Hogwarts letter addressed to his cupboard?

He did not have time for this, he could get lost in what ever memories he wanted while he was scrubbing Snape's floors, or whatever in Hades Snape wanted him for. The library was where Harry should be headed. Merlin knew that was the place Hermione lay down her wand, not that Harry or Ron ever felt anywhere near as comfortable with the musty old room. But the Library was also empty. Harry waved his wand to call forth the time. He only had an hour and his friends were being particularly difficult to find. Harry wondered if Ron took Hermione home and he cursed the timing. Grabbing a quill and some scrap parchment from the center of the main table Harry jotted down a note.

_Ron, Hermione,_

_I have been searching for you, but you were nowhere to be found. _

_I have some bad news. Snape decided that it was time to collect on the life-debt that I owe him. I am to be the git's house elf. He only gave me two hours before he is taking me away, and my time is running out. I just wanted to say goodbye, and thank you for standing by me all these years. I am hoping that everything will sort itself out before too long. Although, if I know you 'Mione, you will be researching life-debts within moments of receiving this note. I truly hope that you can find something relevant._

_One good thing is that Snape could not possibly be any worse than the Dursleys, and because of them I am at least used to foul treatment._

_Your friend._

_Harry Potter._

Harry left the quill on the table and dashed up to the owlery. He attached the letter to Hedwig and sent her off after quickly explaining the matter.

Harry had forty-five minutes left to wander a seemingly empty castle. If only Ron and Hermione had rooms of their own in the castle Harry might wait in them for the remaining time with the hope of them returning. Unfortunately Harry was the only one who had been living in the castle this summer, his two friends came only to keep him company. Harry even wished that he had access to Gryffindor tower, but all the common rooms were locked during the summer. Having nothing else to do Harry decided to visit the kitchens.

To say that Dobby was happy to see him would be an understatement. It was rather obvious from the exuberant nature of the elf that he was bored and wanted to do nothing more then bestow upon Harry anything that he could find an excuse to make him accept. Harry shook his head thinking of Hermione. If she was down here more often when the elves had so little to do she might give up SPEW.

"Mister Harry Potter, sir, you is such a great wizard to be seeing humble Dobby, sir." Harry had to keep himself from rolling his eyes at his green friend.

"It's nothing, Dobby. I just came down to say goodbye. I'm leaving the castle rather permanently I'm afraid." Harry replied with a grimace.

"Harry Potter come to tell Dobby goodbye?" The little elf's large round eyes started watering as he gazed up in awe at his idol. "Harry Potter great beyond even words," the elf whispered as he hugged the wizard's knees.

Harry began to wonder if this was a mistake. The wizard did not really desire this undying affecting right now, and the fact that it was coming from a house elf was giving him some rather strange visual images of speaking in broken English, bobbing his head, and following Snape around. Harry shuddered at the thought and pried his friend off of him.

"Well, Dobby, I…um…I think I should head out, I don't have much time left." Harry said as he backed away towards the entrance to the kitchen.

"Oh, wait Harry Potter, sir! Dobby has gift for Harry Potter, sir!" And with that the small elf disappeared only to reappear a few seconds later with a large package badly wrapped in wrinkly brown paper.

Harry didn't know what to say. He looked from the elf to the package several times before registering the hopeful look on his friend's face. Repressing a sigh Harry accepted the soft bundle and tore into the paper. It was a blanket…A Harry Potter blanket. Harry's face was staring at him from the warm, thick bedding.

"I…I don't know what to say Dobby. This is so…unexpected." Harry finished lamely.

"There is more sir, inside the blanket!" The house elf said excitedly motioning for Harry to unfold the blanket. "I is getting them for Mister Harry Potter after Harry Potter killed the bad wizard. I is thinking Harry Potter is needing cheering."

Harry did as the elf directed and found a set of Harry Potter pillows, sheets, pajamas, and warm Harry Potter slipper socks. The teenager felt his face turn red with embarrassment. There would be no living it down if Snape saw these. Harry yet again stammered his thanks and took out his miniaturized trunk, but before he could unshrink it Dobby stopped him. With a snap of Dobby's fingers the gifts disappear.

"They is packed now sir!" The little elf exclaimed beaming. "And now Harry Potter needs food for trip." Dobby said ignoring Harry's protests. Without warning Harry was surrounded by house elves brandishing containers of food, enough food to feed anyone for at least a week.

"I…I can't take all that, I could not even carry it, Dobby." Harry said, again trying to refuse his friend's hospitality.

"Nonsense, Harry Potter is still having room in Harry Potter's trunk." And with another snap of the elf's fingers the food disappeared into the trunk.

With a final goodbye to Dobby, Harry left the kitchen his mood, although still dark, was noticeably lighter from the elf's antics.

It was almost time for Harry to meet up with Snape. He sighed as there had been no sight of Hedwig and knew he would likely not be receiving a reply before he left. Of the two hours Harry was given, only ten minutes remained. If he did not head back the teen would be late, and as it was not prudent to be late where Snape was concerned, a grim Harry made his way back to the headmaster's office.

Right as his time was up, the Gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office jumped aside for Harry and he found himself staring up into the deep black eyes of Professor Snape. Harry thought that he was prepared for this, but staring up at his new owner -he would NOT call him master, never, never, never- he began to panic inside. It felt like someone had dropped a cauldron on his chest, restricting his breath. Harry's eyes burned, but he refused to show any weakness. He resolutely stared back and waited for Snape to make the first move.

Without uttering a word Snape strode past Harry, his long black robes billowed out elegantly behind him. He did not converse with Harry, not even so much as to ask if Harry had everything or was ready. No frivolous niceties came forth from the man as he took Harry away from what had been his home of seven years, but then again Harry did not really expect any. The Gargoyle swung back into place jarring Harry from his depressing thoughts. He held his hand up to the stone creature as if trying to memorize the feel of the rock when Snape interrupted his quiet musings with a simple, "Come."

Harry sighed but turned to follow, eyes lingering on every painting and structure he passed. It looked like his memories would be his only company for the foreseeable future, if this was how Snape was going to act; Harry wanted to be certain that his remembrance of them would be flawless.

All too soon the pair had arrived in the entrance hall, the tall doors were already thrown wide open as if the castle herself were ushering them out of her halls. The reds and purples hues left over from the night's sunset made the grassy plain around the castle seem to burn with a strange light. After a slight pause in the doorway, Harry followed Snape past the apperation barrier. Without warning, Snape halted and turned back to Harry startling the teenager who had once again been lost in his thoughts.

For a moment the two of them just stared at each other, Harry's face reflected his grief and resignation while Snape's features were calm and as unreadable as usual. Harry had to resist the urge to step away from the man when Snape stretched out his arm and placed it on the teen's shoulder. Any thought that the man had made the contact out of compassion disappeared as the world around them melted away. He was being apperated away like baggage accompanying a traveling wizard.

* * *

A/N: I know, kinda short still. I wanted to set up a few things that would appear later on and get Harry out of the school. The next chapters will take place at Snape's house and they should be a bit longer. As for whether this will be nice or evil Snape…time will tell. I am sorry for any misspellings and improper grammar, I have been doing the best that I can. I hope it turned out well. 


	3. Manorisms

Don't you just love Midterms and 50+ page projects? College is such a joy, really! Anyway, I am back. I loved your reviews, again I want to say that this is not slash. Just wanted that to be clear.

Disclaimer: I do not own the world that I am writing about.

Chapter 3

It was a disorientating experience being apparated by someone else's magic. Harry found himself to be too queasy to take note of his destination until a few moments after his arrival...then he was astonished. He guessed that he was in Snape Manor, but he had never expected it to be so opulent. The entire room was lit up by a grand crystal chandelier that covered nearly the full expanse of the ceiling. The carpet beneath Harry's feet was thick, soft, and a deep shade of maroon. If it had been any other situation, Harry might have teased his ex-professor of showing his Gryffindor side; but with the situation as it was, he just found himself bemused.

The room was delimited by four ivory colored walls with several portraits of people who looked to be Snape's ancestors on each wall. Planters holding exotic herbs decorated the corners of the room, a small number of stray vines from each container climbed a few meters up the walls. A tall, closed oak door with no visible handle faced the pair leading out into what Harry assumed to be a rather large mansion, if the lavishness of this one room was any indication.

Harry reigned in his astonishment as he looked around and forced his expression to remain one of neutrality. He would not be caught looking around in awe as if he were not displeased with the situation, but try as he might he could not stop the feeling itself.

Snape, who had immediately removed his hand from Harry's shoulder, did Harry the courtesy of pausing while the boy collected his bearings. The man stood tall, his black eyes looking at nothing while he pointedly ignored the surrounding portraits as they tried to engage him in conversation. As the disrespectfulness of Snape's behavior did not seem to faze them in the least, Harry figured that the man's actions were not atypical.

Harry sighed silently, his shoulders drooping slightly, and looked up at Snape. Snape turned his head to meet the young wizard's unsteady gaze and then smoothly led the way out of the room, opening the heavy wooden door with a slight flick of his wand.

The term mansion did not cover what Harry was looking into; in fact, Harry was quite certain that there were no words adequate enough to describe the quiet luxury of the manor before him. Castle would not do, the place was brighter than that, and the walls were not made of craggy stone blocks. The place was not gaudy enough to be called a palace, it was quite apparent to be full of wealth, but it was not on display with useless statues and bobbles for everyone to admire.

The richness of Snape's manor could be seen in the quality of the deep blue rug that ran as far as Harry could see, it was in the thick wooden doors that were easily able to let someone through them had that person been twice Hagrid's height yet looked strong enough to give an army trouble getting past had they been locked. The richness of Snape's home was further seen in the deep cushioned black couches that ran in a semicircle in the center of the room separated from a pair of matching chairs by a hand carved oak coffee table with carved wooden intertwining snakes as the table legs.

It was a calm, quiet beauty that would have left Harry wide eyed and amazed had he not still been carefully schooling his expression at the time. Not matter what the place was like though, Harry was not happy to be here, he wanted to make certain that no one would mistake that...but he could still inwardly appreciate the beauty of it. Secretly, very secretly.

"Master Severus! I is so happy to see Master is back!" A wide eyed house elf appeared out of nowhere only to earn a reproving glare from his master.

"I is meaning...am meaning, welcome back sir. I am glad to see you are well?" The little elf corrected looking embarrassed.

Snape gave a sharp nod to the elf which Harry found not just a little odd. He could not imagine Snape taking time out to give house elves grammar lessons. Actually the thought was mildly amusing, perhaps Snape would be a better teacher if the students were bowing, worshiping, and calling him master. He certainly could not handle a class of students exercising free will.

That was not true, Harry realized, or at least it was not fair. He knew that his teacher had to act a certain way to maintain his mask while spying on Voldemort, he also realized that after the Dark Lord's fall Snape seemed to be more quiet and introspective...no longer the loud, angry, impatient man that Harry had been a student of. But the teenager had no desire to be fair, after all, was what Snape was doing to him fair? Hardly.

Harry was brought back to reality by the feeling that he was being watched.

Looking around Harry discovered that sometime during his inner monologue the house elf had disappeared. Eventually Harry looked up at Snape and discovered where the feeling had come from.

Snape was watching him, his eyes seeming to see right through Harry, as if the man was reading the younger boy's thoughts. Harry, having no desire to be read quickly occluded his mind, but as Snape did not seem to notice the young wizard did not know if his occlusion was either complete or correct. Perhaps Snape was only watching him, not sifting though his memories. Harry could not feel the man in his mind, but that did not really mean much if Snape wished to remain hidden.

If Harry was going to remain here, he knew he would have to study his occlumency book much more thoroughly.

Harry found the man's gaze to begin to unnerve him. Did Snape ask him a question that he did not hear? Was he supposed to respond to something? Harry had not spoken to his old teacher since the meeting with Albus, and in truth Harry did not much feel like speaking to him now. Even Harry's desire to scream and rage at the man for the unfairness of it all had been replaced with a hollow sense of betrayal.

At last Snape turned away from Harry and made his way up the curving staircase that had been facing them. Not turning back the man motioned for Harry to follow. Harry caught up to Snape and trailed after him just as he turned off the continuing staircase once they reached the second floor. Snape then led Harry down a well lit hallway where a thick green carpet that made Harry feel as if he was walking on soft, newly tilled earth covered the floor.

Harry counted the closed doors as he passed them, trying to keep track of where they were going and how far away from the staircase their destination was. He had a feeling that where ever Snape was taking him it was going to be a place Harry visited often.

Or, Harry thought, he could be giving me a tour. He smiled to himself at the thought, after all, if Snape was giving Harry a tour he was even worse at being a tour guide than being a teacher.

Nine closed doors had passed and Harry found himself being led into the tenth. Nice even number to remember. Harry's mood darkened again as he remembered some of his ex-professor's comments as to his intellect and ability to retain information.

Harry scowled, he could have remembered to go to the third door, or the seventh door, or even the one-hundred twenty-fourth door…although he was grateful that it wasn't quite that long of a walk. Perhaps he was reading too much into this.

Harry found himself inside of a bedroom, but before he had a chance to give the place more than a cursory glance Snape caught his attention.

"This is your residence for the duration of your time here. I expect you to treat this room, as with all my belongings with the utmost respect." Snape paused.

Harry focused on breathing evenly and tried to not let Snape's insinuation of Harry's inability to…not wreck things get to him. Harry had heard much worse than that come out of this man's mouth.

Harry waited for the man to go on, but Snape seemed to be waiting for some indication that Harry had heard him. As the boy did not trust his voice, and really had no desire to speak to the man, he just nodded.

Snape narrowed his eyes and studied the teenager, but said nothing about the abrupt gesture. This surprised Harry who had listened to multiple lectures on the subject of showing the proper respect to Snape. Harry had lost count of the amount of times Snape had leaned down to the point that he was only inches away from Harry's face and hissed menacingly at Harry to call him sir, professor, or some other term of respect.

"Have you eaten?"

So much for Harry's carefully schooled expression, but then again, Snape always did have the ability to startle him. Before Harry could stop himself he found his treacherous mouth breaking his vow of silence and answering Snape.

"Lunch…I'm not really hungry right now though." Harry narrowed his eyes, held his tongue prisoner between his teeth, and silently berated himself for being caught off guard.

"None the less, I expect you to eat. I will have food brought to you tonight, and you will settle down for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow morning an elf will collect you to inform you of your duties." Snape turned to leave but paused in the doorway and without turning around he spoke again. "I will know, Mr. Potter, of any magic done in my house, so do try to keep yourself out of trouble."

The door snapped shut behind Snape and Harry found himself alone in the unfamiliar room. Harry stood uncomfortably in the center of his new home and looked around. This was not to say that the room itself was uncomfortable, far from it actually. Harry just found that the situation he was in made it difficult to relax.

Harry took the time he now had to take in his new surroundings. He found himself slightly annoyed to see that the carpet was the same green that the hallway had been, in fact the entire room was done in various shades of green. Harry figured that Snape boarded him on this green floor to make a point, and the boy highly doubted that it was because the color went well with his eyes.

Aside from the insult Harry knew Snape must have intended to give, the room was the nicest Harry had ever seen. It was easily four times as large as Dudley's second bedroom and it had a door that appeared to connect into his very own bathroom. A large oak four poster bed with thick multi-shaded green curtains tied open at each post was to the left of the entrance door, the head of the bed up against the wall. A thin wardrobe stood against the opposite wall across from the foot of the king size bed. Twin dressers stood, one on each side of the wardrobe, bookshelves built into the wall above them.

A tall, wide window framed by curtains that matched the darkest green of the bed hangings faced the door. An elaborately built oak desk stood in front of the window while a matching oak chair with leather padding was neatly pushed into place under it.

Sighing Harry made his way over to the wardrobe facing the foot of his bed, deciding to leave his trunk and belongings out of sight. The hand carved oak doors opened outward to reveal a room twice the size of Harry's old cupboard. The size of the wardrobe startled Harry, he was sure that it looked quite smaller on the outside. It seemed that he would never stop being shocked at the magic that other wizards took for granted.

Shaking off the surprise, Harry removed his shrunken trunk from his pocket and set it a few inches away from the wall on the right side of the wardrobe. With a wave of his wand and a quick spell his truck was back to normal size, its lid thrown open and leaning against the wall.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his trunk was empty. Before it has been nearly filled...and with Dobby's additions it should be overflowing. Harry started to see white. His clothes, his belongings; his life was in that trunk. Did Dobby do the spell wrong?

Dobby! He had said that Harry had plenty of room in his trunk for all that food; Harry knew that he didn't...what if... Harry stepped closer and looked properly into his trunk; sure enough the bottom was just barely covered with miniaturized items that looked as if they belonged in a doll house. Harry groaned, he was not looking forward to unshrinking an item every time he wanted to use it.

Sighing Harry reached into his trunk and pulled out one of his robes, planning on at least putting his clothes away. When Harry pulled the robe out he was not expecting it to revert back to its proper size, when it did Harry stumbled back dropping the robe into the trunk again.

Shaking his head, Harry berated himself for his reaction and stepped up to retrieve the robe which was once again in its miniaturized form.

The teenager hung his robe, and quickly did the same with the rest of his clothes minus, of course, the Harry Potter paraphernalia that was given to him by Dobby. That would remain hidden in his trunk as long as Harry had any say in the matter. The wardrobe still looked empty. Harry had far more clothing than he had ever had in his life, thanks to the shopping trip Hermione had dragged him on before seventh year started. He had well over a dozen muggle outfits, a few decent robes, and even a set of dress robes. This was not even mentioning his Pajamas or the clothes he still had from his years at the Dursley's. But hung up there it seemed as if he had very little.

Actually, Harry didn't know why he held onto his old hand-me-downs from his overweight cousin, Harry guessed that it was because he had so little for so long he was not used to throwing anything away. Ah well, maybe they would come in handy if Snape had him gardening or doing hard cleaning without magic.

A pop sounded behind Harry sounding deafening in the silent room. When Harry spun around he did not see anyone in the room, but the desk by the window now held a shiny silver tray covered by a lid of the same material.

Harry, curious despite himself, walked over to the desk and lifted the lid off of the tray. Immediately the smell of rich beef stew filled the bedroom, and Harry's traitorous mouth watered. Harry, though, was not lying to Snape when he said that he did not want to eat. No matter how good the food smelled, he doubted that it would stay down once eaten. Despite not feeling well, Harry sat down at the desk knowing that he did not eat, he very well could face the wrath of his ex-professor.

When Harry looked more closely at the tray he found himself amused to find that the entire meal was composed of easily digestible foods. It seemed as if Snape knew exactly why Harry did not want to eat. The vegetables in the stew were cut into very small pieces and the beef was shredded; there was apple sauce in a small glass bowl to the side. A cup of a spicy scented tea set by the apple sauce drew Harry's attention first.

After taking his first sip of tea, Harry even found reason to believe that his meal was doused with potions as his stomach calmed considerably.

Harry honestly did not know whether to be thankful or disturbed by the thought that his meal was covered in potions. He chose not to think about it now. Whatever had been in the tea had not only removed his queasiness, but it had also renewed his appetite.

Harry dug into the meal with gusto, tearing off a piece of the fresh brown bread that had been laying on the plate holding the bowl of stew, noticing how the inside of the bread steamed as he broke it apart. The teenager dipped the bread into the stew and nearly moaned as the taste exploded in his mouth. Harry had thought that Hogwarts food was good, but he obviously did not have much to compare it to. He now knew why the children from some of the older families complained about school food, it was nothing compared to this.

Before Harry realized it, he had finished everything on the plate and was feeling rather warm and sleepy. The young wizard's mind seemed to be incased in a pleasantly warm haze which blocked out all complicated thought. Harry barely had enough presence about him to change into a pair of deep blue pajamas and stumble into bed before sleep took him.

The young wizard never even noticed how the thick comforter that he was under remained just the perfect temperature, nor how the curtains had detached themselves from the poles that they were tied to and closed as Harry lay down, leaving him to rest in complete darkness.

TBC

But I am sure you knew that. Anyway, I have the next chapter halfway done and it should be out by next week. Sorry for any mistakes, I have taken care of them the best I can. Again, thanks for all your comments, they do mean a lot.


	4. Who is the house elf here?

**Disclaimer:**

_Despite my love for this great story_

_I can partake of none of the glory_

_As much as I love to write this thing_

_This world belongs to J K Rowling_

Okay, corny poem, but most disclaimers are corny... mine just does it with a rhyme. Yay!

Hey, if for some reason you like the poem, let me know and I will try to make another one for my next disclaimer.

Again, thank you so much for letting me know how you like what is written so far. It really does help.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Chapter 4

When Harry awoke it was completely dark, yet he knew that he had been sleeping for quite a while. It had to be morning at least…the boy abruptly sat up, confused by the feel of the bed underneath him. It seemed much softer than the slightly lumpy bed he had grown used to at Hogwarts, bigger too. No light seeped in though the hangings as they did at Hogwarts. The only logical conclusion was that he was no longer at his former school.

Then it hit him, and he groaned. Nothing like waking up to bad news to get the day off to a pleasant start. This was the very reason Harry did not take sleeping draughts as they left you slightly out of sorts once you did wake up, and in a world at war any small uncertainty could be the death of you or someone around you. Harry certainly did not appreciate having such a potion given to him without his consent.

Now, knowing where he was still didn't answer why he was incased in darkness. Harry had very little memory of actually crawling into bed, but he did know for certain that he was not thinking clearly enough at the time to be able to pull the bed curtains closed. The thought of someone coming into the room while he was in a forced sleep unnerved him. Harry hated to be vulnerable.

Slowly Harry brought his hand up and kneaded his forehead. He figured that he had better get used to it, or perhaps he could erect a shield spell around him as he slept. The only problem is that they were hard to sustain while the caster was unconscious, and they often drained more energy than the caster regained while sleeping.

He would figure something out, meanwhile Harry knew that he had put off getting out of bed long enough. The boy swung his legs off the mattress but before he was able to move aside the hangings that were surrounding him they flew aside and reattached themselves to the poles.

Now Harry found himself annoyed. Really, he thought, Hogwarts was in place to educate people about magic and its utilization…so why was he so unprepared to view magic in its every day uses?

Harry then had a thought that made him chuckle, what if Hogwarts was not only around to help the magically undereducated learn to incorporate magic into their daily lives, but also to help the purebloods learn to live without everything charmed for them. That would explain why Harry's first thought after seeing everything shrunk inside his truck was that he would have to bring everything to its original size manually. Hogwarts taught her students how to do things for themselves, not to rely on pre-spelled conveniences.

Safer that way as well, to rely on one's own magic rather than the spelling capability of another, who knew what additional hexes could be added.

Harry again looked around the room. His dinner from last night seemed to have been tidied up. The lid was back on the tray and both were placed neatly back where they had first arrived. The young wizard shrugged at the placement and stood from his bed, he then walked over to the wardrobe and selected a decent set of clothing to wear. He knew that he was going to be working, so Harry did not want to wear his good robes, but then again, he did not wish to look like a beggar either…which left out any of the clothes the Dursleys had passed onto him.

Eventually Harry settled on a pair of muggle jeans and a t-shirt. After a moment of thought, Harry reached into his trunk and pulled out his watch which resized itself as it was removed. Since he was no longer at Hogwarts, the muggle technology should work. The wizard cast the time charm, adjusted the time on his watch, and finally headed towards the door that led into what he assumed would be the bathroom.

It was strange how much of a relief it was to be able to say he had seen nicer. Harry had found himself becoming so confused about the comfort bestowed upon him by the man who had forced him to come that it seemed to make him feel at least a little better to think of how much bigger the prefect's bathroom was. Perhaps it was petty, but Harry enjoyed the comparison just the same. The tub, for instance, although it was luxurious, it was not the size of a swimming pool, just slightly larger than your average Jacuzzi. Also, there was not a great deal of taps, only four that Harry could see.

The floors of the bathroom were tiled blue, and there was a shower set up to the side of the tub. Off to the side, in an area partitioned off as to not be seen from the bath was the toilet and sink area. The sink top was made out of a blue and black swirl marble-like material and already had the basic essentials such as soap, toothpaste, tooth brush, hair brush among other items neatly set out upon the counter. The entire place was decorated in various shades of blue.

It was definitely a very nice bathroom, but Harry had seen better.

Half an hour later Harry was clean, dressed, and rather uncertain about how he was supposed to proceed. Snape had mentioned that a house elf would come to collect him, but when and for what he had no idea.

…And the tray was still sitting on the desk. For some reason this irritated the boy, he figured that if the tray was spelled to clean itself up, it could very well find its way back to where ever it had come from.

Wondering if perhaps he was supposed to do something, Harry made his way over to the desk and prodded the lid with his wand. Nothing. Finally Harry just lifted the lid off the tray to find…breakfast, and suddenly he felt like an idiot.

Sitting down at the desk he found himself rather thankful that Snape was not around. Harry could only imagine what scathing remarks Snape would shred his pride with, Harry could even now see the sneering mouth and the cold eyes that seemed to look straight into him and with all manner of expression leave no doubt as to how worthless the man behind them believed Harry to be.

Thinking about the professor, Harry paused before beginning breakfast. He could have sworn that someone had put potions in his last meal, and he was not thrilled at the prospect of having more forced upon him without his knowledge.

Eyeing the meal suspiciously, Harry picked up his fork and scooped up some of the scrambled eggs. Harry brought the food up to his nose to try to detect any scent that would warn him of someone…Snape…tampering with his food. He could detect nothing, but scowled knowing that it really didn't mean anything. Anyone with a sliver of knowledge of the art could hide the flavor or smell of a potion, and Harry was now living with a potions master.

Harry debated not eating, but his stomach seemed to have caught a whiff of the tantalizing meal and was demanding to sample it. Harry sighed knowing that he would have to eat sometime. He had not forgotten about the food that Dobby had sent with him, but his instincts were screaming at him to wait and see how he was treated over the next couple days. Living with the Dursleys had taught him not to waste food needlessly, or to give up the advantage of having an unknown store just because he did not like what was served.

Harry rolled his eyes in disgust. He could just see himself refusing to drink from anything but a flask in a few years. Peculiar Potter, people would call him, or some equally ridiculous name. Harry had enough nicknames as it was.

The teen's stomach complained loudly at his indecision. Harry shook his head but finally gave in to its demands.

Breakfast was just as appetizing as dinner was the night before. The scrambled eggs had been cooked with cut up bits of bacon scattered about inside along with melted cheese that stretched into strings as Harry lifted each bite from the plate. After the eggs Harry tackled the bowl of fruit that was set aside the plate of eggs. The mix of berries and melons were juicy and seemed to explode with taste, just as if they were picked at the peak of ripeness. Finally he drained his orange juice and placed the silver lid back onto its tray.

For a moment Harry just sat there staring at the tray, trying to will it away with his mind, but it stubbornly stayed fixed to its location. He again lifted the lid only to find the remaining crumbs from his meal still where he had left them. Harry shook his head and glanced down at his wrist.

It was 8:00 according to his watch, and Harry again found himself wondering what he was supposed to do. Well, one thing was for sure, he was not just going to sit around and just wait to be collected. Harry had a few things he needed to brush up on if he was going to be spending any prolonged period of time around the potion master.

Making his decision, Harry opened his wardrobe and fished out a book on occlumency that Hermione had bought him after his disastrous lessons with Snape during his fifth year.

Harry kicked off his shoes, sat cross-legged on his bed, and immersed himself in the art of defending the mind.

Half past eight a light tapping sound came from the door. When Harry did not say anything, the door cracked open and a voice spoke.

"Mr. Potter?" Came a timid squeak. "Mr. Potter? I is sent to be bringing you to your work sir."

Harry nodded, slid off the bed and slipped on his shoes. Before crossing over to the elf Harry hid the book he was reading under the pillows at the head of his bed. The boy then glanced around the room to make sure everything was in order and that nothing was out that he did not want to be found.

Everything was in place; in fact the desk was even cleared from his breakfast. Harry scowled slightly but didn't say a word. Finally Harry followed the elf out of his room paying careful attention to where they were headed and how they were getting there.

The odd pair did not travel the same path that Snape had taken to bring the teen to his room; actually the elf led Harry further down the green hallway until they came to another stair case. This staircase was nowhere near as grand as the first one, but it seemed to serve its purpose as it led directly to a door which opened out into the back courtyard.

Harry actually found the courtyard to be rather amazing. It was not the neat flowery garden that Harry had grown used to seeing from his years living at the Dursley's. This courtyard had a sort of wildness to it, it reminded the wizard of parts of the forbidden forest back at Hogwarts. Harry found that he could name actually name very few of the plants he saw which surprised him as he had all but memorized the book 1,001 Magical Herbs and Fungi along with the many other books used in his NEWTs herbology class.

Harry was rather good at herbology, yet looking at the herb habitat around him the wizard did not see how he would be able to do anything. Snape must be trying to once again drive into Harry's head how useless he was.

Harry shook his head free from the dark thoughts that were plaguing him; not even Snape would risk ruining his garden only to make Harry feel like dirt.

Harry sighed, and not for the first time began to wonder how the fragile truce they had built between them for the last two years had shattered so easily, and what had happened to cause it.

Finally the elf stopped walking and stared at Harry waiting for the boy's attention. When Harry looked at the elf it motion to a tilled patch of land bordering a path that led deep into the garden.

"Master Severus is wanting you to be planting seedling plants here." The elf said.

Confused, Harry gave up the silent treatment and addressed the elf. "What plants?" Then realizing that he did not even know the name of his companion he added, "And what is your name?"

The little elf blinked up at him. "I is called Gobby, sir, and Master Severus said you is to collect seeds from surrounding plants to decorate pathway. He is saying that you should be using nice plants that is being useful, not the mean poison ones as this is being a well used path and should not be made to be unsafe. He is also saying that you is having seven years of learning of magical plants and should be having ad…e…quit knowledge to not be destroying a few simple spess…e…mens."

"Glad to see he has so much faith in my abilities" Harry mumbled to himself. "Hey, Gobby?" Harry said in a conversational tone as a thought struck him. "You did not happen to know an elf named Dobby, did you? Your names are remarkably similar."

"Dobby is being Gobby's brother, sir. Dobby is bad elf that abandons his family. Dobby is giving house elves a bad name. Gobby is ashamed to be being related to such a shaming elf." Gobby said harshly.

"I see." Harry said, not sure what to say now. "Um...thank you" he eventually said cringing right afterward at the thought of thanking someone for putting him to work. At least it was outside, Harry would have much preferred to be on his Firebolt, but gardening was not too bad all things considered.

"I is to be going now. Good day sir." The elf said and then blinked out of sight.

Harry sighed as he looked around at the vegetation surrounding him. "Useful and safe." Harry's mind started working as he picked out the plants he recognized, and he debated over which ones he should include in this new garden. _Useful and safe…_ Harry smiled to himself, so be it.

It took a few minutes, but Harry found the first plant that he wished to include in the pathway's border. The Lathyrus eucosmus was a plant with a pastel pink flower commonly used to create a potion base used in many love potions or other similar potions used to effect emotions because of its natural aphrodisiac effect.

Harry grinned to himself as he harvested the seeds from the plant. It would be a few weeks before the plants would start to show, and Harry was going to make sure that it would be something to remember. Snape had brought this on himself after all. Just imagine, the man with no feelings having the main walkway into his potions gardens covered in flora commonly used in fun, inane potions.

Next Harry spotted a Malva neglecta, a fast growing plant with small white flowers. The leaves of this plant were often crushed to be used in fertility potions, while the delicate flowers were often added whole as an ingredient to skin softening balms.

It was not long before Harry had lost himself in his work, feeling relaxed and more himself than he had in a long time.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

AN: Alright, again I have the next chapter on its way to being finished and it should be up next week.

I know, no Snape action in this chapter. It really did not fit in, but there is a bit in the next chapter.

I hope you enjoyed it. Just to answer a question I know will be coming up, no Harry is definitely not happy to be there...but there is such a thing as making the best of a bad situation. He is still harboring quite a bit of resentment over the whole ordeal.

Oh, just in case you couldn't tell...I myself was famished when I was writing what Harry was eating.

Thanks for the feedback!


	5. Tomes of despair

Disclaimer:

_Listen all as I disclaim._

_I own no person, place, or name._

_There is nothing I write that I can claim._

_I make no money, so please don't flame!_

I'm back. The poem above is dedicated to Pazed whose poem about my poem brought forth much laughter when I read it. Thanks Pazed!

Also, I would like to dedicate this chapter to Momo Da Homo, my very first reviewer and who has also reviewed every chapter I have written so far. I really appreciate it. Thanks!

Anyway, on with the story!

Chapter 5

_Sticks and stones may break your bones_

_When there's anger to impart_

_Spiteful words may hurt your feelings_

_But silence breaks your heart._

It was nearing noon and Harry felt as if he had made very little progress on the long path. He felt hot, hungry, and magically exhausted. Harry was well used to gardening because of his chores at the Dursley's, but when dealing with magical vegetation it was tiring to attempt to keep working at the same pace that he was used to.

The Dursleys would have expected him to have the entire walkway bordered with plant life by the time the day was over, but he had never had to scavenge for his own seeds before. He never had to point his wand into the ground to regulate the temperature so that it would fit best with that particular variety of plant, nor did he have to provide water from his own spelling power after the seeds were finally planted. And finally, he had never had to cast an impenetrable charm around each of the seeds to insure that the land would remain weed free until the earth was re-tilled.

The last one though would definitely make caring for the garden that much easier, but still it was a lot to keep up with all at once.

The entire path done today? Ha! He would be lucky if he finished a quarter of it before dark.

Harry sighed, slipped off his knees into a crossed-legged position, and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand taking his first breather of the day. _You lazy ungrateful boy!_ His aunt's voice echoed in his head. Harry sighed, flicked his wand to spell himself a glass of water, and quickly drank it all down. After banishing the glass with another flick, the young man redoubled his efforts on the garden.

It was not really a bad day outside, although Harry had his theories on that. He wondered if it was ever a bad day in Snape's courtyard. Most of the fauna really belonged in greenhouses so that it would avoid being torn apart in a battle with the elements, but everything was growing beautifully right here under the clear blue sky.

The ground temperature charm that Harry had been adding was only the first step in making it possible for the vegetation to grow in a place it was not native to. What was done about the air temperature, individual watering needs, and specific humidity requirements? It was hard enough to accomplish within a contained environment, but to have an outdoor display like this was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

It was this also that made Harry's job all the more difficult. Even though the young man was enjoying the thought of the little joke he was playing on Snape, he had to work with plants that had all the same atmospheric requirements that the weather he was currently enjoying would provide. That, unfortunately left out a lot of interesting flora that Harry would have very much wanted to include.

Actually Harry was amused by the fact that he was even playing a joke on someone, he usually left the pranking to the Weasley twins. It struck Harry as rather ironic that the man who hated his father for playing jokes on him was the very person to drive Harry to do the same thing. Yet Harry knew that his own humor was vastly different from what he saw of his father's. Even irate, Harry would never condone the actions the marauders had performed. He would stick with a more intelligent way of venting his anger, and it seemed as if he had some more learning to do in order to pull this off this gardening stunt well.

Maybe he could owl Neville and ask him if he could pass on any spells that would allow Harry to address the three issues that he was having a problem with. That is, if Hedwig would ever return.

Harry paused and scanned the skies wondering if his owl would be able to find him here. For all he knew this place had owl repelling charms on it.

Harry sighed, and then stiffened as a shadow fell over him. With a reaction speed that could only be learned from years of fighting, he was on his feet and facing his could-be-attacker with his wand raised.

When the wizard saw who he was facing, he found himself not at all surprised as to why he had never heard the man coming. Harry never could hear Snape when he walked.

For a few seconds neither of the men moved. Snape stood staring coolly at the younger man as if he could really not be bothered by such theatrics while Harry narrowed his eyes as he assessed his elder for any sign of a threat.

For the most part it appeared as if the long battles with the dark lord had never truly scarred the boy, but there were small signs...and his reaction to being startled was one of them. Finally Harry let himself fractionally relax and lower his wand. He did not holster it for the man as he once would have, putting one's wand away signified trust and Harry no longer saw any reason to trust the wizard facing him.

Snape raised his eyebrow signaling to Harry that the older wizard did not miss the gesture and had caught the implications of Harry's action. Harry just watched him, waiting for the man to speak what he had come to say.

"You seemed to have completed a satisfactory quantity of labor for the extent of time you have applied." Snape spoke offhandedly.

Oh joy! Harry thought sarcastically. He was seething inside from Snape's casual tone and couldn't wait for the man to leave him in peace. Harry kept his face free from emotions, a trick he had learned from the wizard facing him, and waited stiffly for the man to continue. Harry saw no reason to speak to the man, in fact Harry's silence was necessary. Aside from it being safer not to talk and therefore not to blow up at the man, it was also his payback for the silent treatment in Dumbledore's office. Harry had never before thought the man a coward, but his little act was nothing short of cowardice in Harry's eyes.

Snape narrowed his eyes and appeared to stare right through Harry as he waited for a reaction to his statement, when none was forthcoming his gaze hardened and he pulled a small package wrapped in cloth out of one of the pockets of his voluminous black robe. The man then pulled out his wand and enlarged the package before handing it to Harry.

"You would do well to have these read by the end of the week." Snape commented pointedly.

Harry peeled the cloth off the top of the package to find three thick books each looking to be well over fifty years old yet still in perfect condition.

"Do endeavor to return them in the same immaculate state that you have received them in." Snape glanced down at Harry's soiled hands and narrowed his eyes.

The young man covered the books back up with the cloth and casually shrugged at his former professor while smothering a desire to snidely ask when the test would be, or how many rolls of parchment he would be required to write out on the subjects.

"It is growing warm, you should return to your room for lunch. Then, it would not be remiss to begin your reading." Snape snapped around, his robes fanning out behind him as he made his way back into his manor.

After muttering a quick cleaning charm Harry headed back to his room, the bundle of books he had received were clutched in his hands.

When Harry stepped into his room, the first thing that caught his eye was the state of his bed. From his years at Hogwarts he was rather used to leaving his covers in their disheveled state and coming back to a perfectly made bed, here however it appeared that the house elves were not concerned with his cleanliness. He bet that Snape would be though. Harry had not forgotten the few words Snape had spoken to him only last night. Treat his belongings with the utmost of respect…and all that rubbish.

Harry knew, though, that he would obey that particular order. He had no desire for Snape to have him empty out his vault only to fix some inappropriately expensive bobble. Not that there were actually bobbles around here, Harry thought as he looked around.

Now, as for lunch, it seemed as if the silver tray was back on the desk just as if it had never left. Harry sighed and took his place at the desk opening the tray to reveal a healthy portion of sandwiches, fresh fruit, and juice.

Hunger sedated, Harry washed up and brought the package of books over to his bed. The young wizard had not had the time to really look at the books while under Snape's icy glare, and Harry now found himself most curious about what the greasy git wanted him to study. Sitting on his bed, Harry unwrapped the package and lay the books down on his lap as the cloth that had been covering them dropped to the floor.

Harry sighed at the size of the tomes before even looking at the titles. Snape wanted these read by the end of the week? Either the man wanted just another excuse to tell Harry off, or he had more faith in Harry's abilities than he had ever bothered to show. Or, Harry thought with a snicker, the war had addled the professor's brains and had him confusing Harry with Hermione.

Harry brought his attention to the covers of the three books and read the titles.

_Valuable Vegetation_: A complete listing of known plants and their uses.

_Practical Productivity_: Spells for all occasions.

_Wizarding Welfare_: Rituals and traditions every wizard should know.

The first two Harry could understand. They could both be combined in a single book called: _So You Want to be a House Elf_. The third book is what threw the boy for a loop. What in the world would make Snape give…no, lend him a book on wizarding culture? It really made no sense. What in Merlin's name would a servant…Harry shivered at the thought…need to know about culture? It actually hurt his head to think about it.

Since his first job dealt with plants, Harry figured that he should start on the first book. Decision made he set the remaining two books down beside his bed on top of the cloth that had fallen to the floor and scooted back against the pillows at the head of his bed.

As Harry leaned against the pillows set up against the headboard he felt something hard and pointed dig into his lower back. Grumbling to himself he reached back and removed the offending item from under the pillows. His occlumency book. Harry sighed, he really needed to get reacquainted with that particular art while he was here, but it seemed the odds were against him at the moment. Harry shoved the book back under the pillows and into a more comfortable location. He would read it for a few minutes before bed every night, it would at least be a start.

Harry opened the borrowed book and began to read.

The book was rather interesting which aggravated the young man to no end, he was not used to enjoying any material his former professor handed him. Then again, this was not the usual potions texts that the man assigned his class. It was actually quite informative and would be rather helpful with what Harry desired to do with the plot of land he had been assigned. In fact, if the information in the future chapters were as informative as the beginning ones…well Harry might not need to owl Neville for help after all.

At precisely four o'clock a familiar knock sounded from Harry's door. Deciding to show slightly better manners than he had before, Harry set the book aside, rolled off his bed, and went to answer the door. It was Gobby, just as Harry had expected from the light tapping quality that the knock had.

Harry raised his eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of the potions master to ask wordlessly what the elf had called upon him for.

"You is needing to be planting again sir." The elf stated.

Harry sighed. "Is there an actual schedule that I can follow, or are you going to be appearing at odd times to assign me tasks?"

The elf blinked in surprise, but seemed to think over Harry's question. "I is not knowing, sir, but I could be asking Master Severus."

"No, don't bother, it's not that important." Harry really did not want any more contact with Snape than he had to have, even if it was through a middle man…err, elf.

Gobby stood there a moment just looking at Harry before he spoke up again. "You is to be being back here by the time the sun is setting. Master Snape is not liking to have people be wandering around after it is being dark." The elf said before disappearing from the room with a small _pop_.

For a moment Harry debated with himself the pros and cons of just ignoring his orders, but it really was too early to know what to expect from disobeying the man under the terms of a life-debt. Harry shook his thoughts away and walked down the hall towards the garden. He really needed to talk to Hermione.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

AN: I know, not too much action. The next chapter should be fun though. Again, it should be out by next week.

I am not going to answer why Severus is doing this. Sorry:) But it should become slightly clearer by the time the next chapter is out. And just to be clear, as I still have people asking me if this is going to be slash. No, sorry. This is not a story that is centered on any pairings, although RWHG is hinted at.

And last, but certainly not least, thanks to all who took time to review. It really does help keep my mind working when I know people appreciate what I write.


	6. Seeing Red

Disclaimer: That which you read, I do not own

Sorry, no disclaimer poem, I wanted to get this out before the computer labs closed tonight.

Alright, another chapter is out. I actually did not expect to get this done so soon, but my fingers just would not let me stop typing until I got the story out. I hope this clears up a few questions, but I have a feeling that it will raise even more. Ah well, what is a writer to do? Shall we continue? Here we go!

COMINIUS:

_Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself_

_To answer mildly; for they are prepared_

_With accusations, as I hear, more strong_

_Than are upon you yet._

CORIOLANUS:

_The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go:_

_Let them accuse me by invention, I_

_Will answer in mine honour._

-Shakespeare's Coriolanus

Chapter 6

It was approaching noon the following day, and Harry was finishing up his work for the morning. The teenager was quite thankful that he now had a schedule to go by, although he was rather unhappy that Gobby did not listen to him and asked Snape about it anyway.

He had an easier work load than he had expected. Wake up, eat, go out and garden for a few hours, for the hottest part of the day Harry would be tucked away in his room eating lunch and studying his books, then when it cooled off he would go back out until the sun began to set. The rest of the evening would be spent reading, at least until he finished the books Snape told him to read. Finally, just before bed Harry would study from his occlumency book for fifteen to twenty minutes and then meditate for ten more minutes before he fell asleep.

It was fairly easy, it was very scheduled, and Harry had a feeling that he was missing something.

It was growing warm and the young man's stomach was telling him that it was time for lunch, Harry stood and waved his wand almost lazily watching as the dirt left his clothes and a fresh, clean sensation replaced the sticky, sweaty feeling he had obtained from the hard work.

Harry did not know how he had ever lived without cleaning charms before he found out that he was a wizard.

The young man looked to the sky as a breeze hit his face and briefly cooled him from the unrelenting heat of the sun while his untamable hair danced in the wind. As his gaze focused, Harry caught sight of an owl in the distance and watched its progress.

It was not an unfamiliar sight here; the young man had seen quite a few owls slipping in and out of a high tower that he assumed was the owlery. Harry found it strange that so many of the animals would come and go without gliding through one of the windows to deliver mail, but he had long ago realized that he did not really know enough about the wizarding world to question the normality of certain actions.

As the owl got closer the appearance became familiar and Harry brightened. It was Hedwig, he was sure of it. When his owl was nearing the house she seemed to slow down, and finally stop in mid-flight still flapping her wings determinately.

It would have been humorous if not for the implications. For a few moments, Harry was sure that Snape must have set up wards to block off all contact Harry could have from his friends. Finally, Hedwig realized that she would be unable to get to Harry and she glided into the tower. Harry watched as the snowy owl landed on the windowsill and seemed to glare at Harry as if to say 'Well, I'm up here, what are you waiting for.'

That was all it took before Harry tore into the small door that opened to the stairs he usually took to his room. If Harry's guess was correct, the same stairs would take him directly to the owlery.

Harry was aching for some contact with his old school mates. It had only been a couple days since he had seen his friends, but it really felt like a life time ago, and Harry really needed his friend's research skills if he was ever going to find out the limits on this debt he owed Snape.

It seemed to take forever before Harry finally reached the top of the multiple flights of stairs he had to climb, but finally he arrived at the entry to the owlery. Harry pulled the door open with a jerk, strode in to meet his owl, and then stopped dead in his tracks.

Harry had never in all his years at Hogwarts seen so many red envelopes in one place as there were lying on the floor of the room he was now in. There had to be more than a dozen piled up in the middle of the floor. The cool breeze blew in from the open windows causing the door to slam shut behind him.

"Crap" Harry muttered as the noise somehow seemed to alert the howlers to his presence. They couldn't be for him, how in the world could they be for him? Harry had not even been at Snape's house for two full days, but there they were slowly, almost timidly moving towards Harry.

"Crap, Crap, Crap!" He only had a few moments to decide what to do. Harry really did not want to be caught up in the owlery, especially if his mail was being diverted. Being able to mail his friends without anyone having knowledge of it might just be advantage he needed to stay sane, and stay informed. Besides who was to say that his mail would not be intercepted if anyone knew he was writing it.

Okay, options. Well, he could incinerate the lot of them, he could cast silencio on each of them, but Harry was too curious as to why he was receiving so many howlers. He made his decision. Immediately Harry cast silencing charms on the walls, ceiling, and floor of the owlery finishing just moments before one of the howlers flew straight at his face, ripped open, and nearly deafened him with accusations and insults.

"SPOILED SELF-RIGHTEOUS BRAT. AFTER ALL YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN, HOW DARE YOU TAKE THE LAW INTO YOUR OWN HANDS. I BET YOU DESERVED EVERYTHING YOU GOT YOU UNGRATEFUL…" It went on, the volume vociferous. Harry was confused, if anyone had taken the law into his own hands it would have been Snape with his life debt thing. Or was this about Voldemort?

"MURDERER, FREAK OF A WIZARD, I HOPE YOU GET KISSED, AZKABAN IS TOO GOOD FOR THE LIKES OF YOU!" A female voice roared. Harry stepped backwards, his back pressed up against the closed door.

What the hell is her problem? Harry thought. Did she want to live in pain and terror under an insanely evil dark wizard?

YOU DID NOT DESERVE TO BE RAISED BY SUCH HONORABLE, HARD WORKING PEOPLE, ALWAYS WHINING FOR ATTENTION YOU ARE. DO YOU POSSIBLY BELIEVE THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU RID THE WORLD OF HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED THAT YOU WERE ABOVE THE LAW AS WELL? Howler after howler ripped apart only to be replaced by another blasting out fresh invectives and allegations.

And Harry still did not know what they were talking about.

LAZY, GOOD FOR NOTHING, WASTE OF MAGIC. YOUR PARENTS WOULD BE SO ASHAMED! PROBABLY NEVER DID AN OUNCE OF WORK IN YOUR LIFE AND YOU THINK YOU CAN GO AROUND AS IF YOU OWN THE WORLD. I HOPE THEY THROW THE BOOK AT YOU!

Finally the last one shredded itself in midair leaving Harry trembling and confused. What did he do to warrant such hatred, but then again, the wizarding world never did need an excuse to turn on him. Potter pounding must be in style again. 14 howlers, and him only being here for two days. Harry wondered if it was a record.

Harry closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, just as he was beginning to get himself back under control, the beating of wings caused him to open his eyes again. An unfamiliar owl was flying through the window, a red envelope in its claw. Just as the bird reached the inside of the room it let go of its parcel and made a sharp turn, flying back the way it had come.

Harry narrowed his eyes as the fresh howler zipped through the air towards him. Having enough of the unfounded insinuations, Harry raised his wand and incinerated the malicious missive mid-flight.

Harry quickly looked around to see if he could spot any other hints of red that wanted to attack him. None, Harry almost let out a sigh of relief, but instead held his breath as his eyes caught sight of a pile of innocent looking white envelopes.

Great. He thought to himself. All he needed was for someone to send him poison; he remembered how that had happened to Hermione in their fourth year.

Harry carefully walked over to the pile and glance at the writing. Sure enough, in various swirls of handwriting, his name adorned every letter that he could see. Harry sighed and left the pile on the ground, he was just thankful not to see any hexers, the green envelopes that shot a mild pain inducing spell at its victim. He had received one of those his seventh year, and his arm had been numb for almost an hour after the hexer cursed him.

Deciding not to deal with any more letters from people he did not know, Harry made his way over to the snowy owl perched on the windowsill. Hedwig reached our her leg as Harry untied the thick roll of parchment, then the owl hopped off the ledge and flew to rest on the boy's shoulder as he unrolled the parchment.

As the tightly wound roll loosened, a newspaper clipping fluttered to the floor. Harry glanced over the hand written letter to reaffirm his speculation that it was indeed from his friends before carefully bending down to retrieve the fallen paper.

Hedwig hooted indignantly at the sudden movement when Harry straighten, nipping his ear a little to hard to be comforting.

"Sorry girl." The boy murmured distractedly. As he sat down with his back leaning against the wall, legs crossed.

Hedwig complained again and hopped down to perch on the wizard's knee as his eyes moved rapidly over the parchment.

"Oh my God." Harry said, as he stopped scanning the long letter. Harry set the missive aside unfinished, and picked up the article that had been enclosed.

**Boy-Who-Lived Kills Kin**

Harry read through the article, his face growing paler by the moment. His only family had been murdered, the ministry had accused him of slaughtering them, even the muggle police were searching for him.

Harry felt his face burn, the article quoted some of his neighbors telling the whole world how his uncle claimed to send him to a school for criminals. Even the scruffy, threadbare attire he wore back there was included in the article, written in such a way that it hinted at him being unstable mentally.

No trial, the ministry was not even going to allow him a trial…something about stopping the next dark lord before he became too powerful.

Harry crumpled up the article in a fit of rage and threw it across the room, dislodging his owl from his knee.

Hedwig, having had enough of her inconsiderate master flew up into the rafters, knocking Harry in the head with her wing as she went.

Harry did not even notice. His family was dead. His family who hated him and did everything they could to make his life miserable had been murdered. Harry never thought that they would ever be able to hurt him more in their death then they ever had in their life.

And Snape, how he hated the man. _Potter's gonna get the kiss, gonna go to jail…lets make sure he can't get away…make him miserable until the day…the wizarding world puts away…another innocent man._ A snide voice taunted him inside his own head.

"WHAT THE HELL DID I EVER DO TO YOU?" Harry yelled to no one. "I'M NOT VOLDEMORT AND I'M NOT MY FATHER! I never even met the man…" his voice tapered off into a breathy whisper.

He couldn't take it any more, he could not stay up here in the owlery while people who never even met him sent him letter after letter telling how they had judged him guilty, guilty without any proof. He was irate, and staying here under the burden of the information he had acquired was causing him to act like a two year old with a temper tantrum, or perhaps like a psychopath kin killer. Oh but that would do well for his reputation.

He needed to calm himself. He would not be able to properly assess the situation unless he was calm. He also needed to finish Ron and Hermione's letter…perhaps when he was not in such a danger of ripping it to shreds in a fit of rage.

Harry slowly rose to his feet, clutching the now wrinkled letter from his friends in his clenched fist. The boy then cast a containment shield over the remaining letters piled on the floor just incase of any unfriendly substances that might possibly be coating the envelopes and then picked up the shielded letters. After accioing the offending article to look over again later when his head was clear, Harry canceled out the silencing charms he had placed around the owlery, and all but ran back to the safety of his room.

AN: Yay! Okay, with this chapter done a bit earlier than planned, I am not sure when the next one will be out. Plan for late next week or early the week after depending on how my classes go.

As always, thanks for the reviews! Reviews to writers are like lemon drops to Dumbledore. It's a craving.

Oh, if you are in for a bit of inane humor, take a look at my other fic Peeves' Poems. It is just an insane little idea that struck me one day, might make you laugh…or hit your head on the nearest available wall.


	7. The Letter

Disclaimer:

_If you think I own this tale,  
__Let me assure you with out fail  
__Nothing written here is mine  
__I disclaim all, thus owe no fine_

First of all, I would like to thank my beta Faye Chua for the great job correcting my story. Thank you so much, there really is a marked improvement.

Second, I am sorry that this is so late, I am finishing the year in college and my free time is sparse as of late.

Here we go.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Chapter 7

_Liar, Liar  
__Fiends conspire  
__Friends betray  
__Truces expire_

_Pyre! Pyre!  
__Wizard's ire  
__Wrath displayed  
__In vengeful fire_

Harry paced his room, his previous hunger had all but disappeared due to the distressing news he had acquired. Harry felt sick, queasy; he had given up his life, he had lost everything, and now suddenly the people who he had given his very childhood to save were screaming Azkaban at him.

Oh yes, Harry was ticked off beyond anything he had felt previously. It was not just what he had sacrificed, but the lives of everyone who had given themselves to save him. Not that anyone in the wizarding world had ever shown one iota of respect for Sirius beyond that of irrational fear. But by claiming that Harry had turned evil, would that not have made the people who died protecting him nothing more than fools in everyone else's eyes?

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, his breath coming in short rapid gasps. And Dumbledore, what did he believe? The man, after all did subject him to this imprisonment with the teacher who had the most cause to detest Harry's very being. Was even his old mentor turning him away with the belief that the darkness he had destroyed was now suddenly tainting his soul?

Harry wanted to scream, he wanted to throw something, anything…no he wanted to throw everything in a fit of pure rage. But really, what good would it do. They had won; they had bound him here using his own magic to hold him prisoner. At least according to what he had read, that is what a life debt entailed. No, no they would not win; he would find a way out of this, surely there had to be something built into this magic that dealt with motive. How can the price of having your life saved be even higher than if it had never been saved at all?

Harry ceased his furious trek around his room and looked over to the desk at the shiny silver tray that held his unwanted noon meal. Harry felt the anger burn in him still deeper. Alone, stuffed into a corner, something owned but never wanted, that was what that tray said to him. He was fed in his room, given work where he would not be noticed by the residents of the manor, yet it was outside where everyone who knew to look could see that he was enslaved.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm the storm raging about inside of him. It would help nothing to lose control. It would solve nothing to lose the advantage of having knowledge that everyone thought they were keeping from him. He had to do this right if he was going to survive this, he had to by all accounts out-slither the Slytherin as the saying went. Harry could do that; he was not Ron, he knew how to lie and deceive; it was something he had learned was a necessity in the war that had been thrust upon him. He hated lying, manipulating...it left him feeling unclean, but it had saved his life many times and if Harry had anything to say about it the very same thing would be done now.

Harry found a calm deep within himself as the embers of his anger and betrayal began to cool. Taking a couple deep breaths to bury his feelings on the matter just as he had for the last couple days, Harry retrieved his friends' letter from the top of the dresser where he had cast it upon entering the room.

Harry needed a place where he could read and not have to worry about being discovered before having a chance to hide the post. His first thought was oddly enough the wardrobe, but he was used to being stuffed and forgotten inside of a cupboard from his youth. Harry dismissed the idea as soon as it had occurred to him, whereas it was commonplace to appear out of a cupboard when called at the Dursleys, here it might seem to be just a little odd. No, the bed would be the best place, as long as he had the curtains drawn...but the wardrobe would be the best place to store the other letters that he had received until he was prepared to go over them.

Decision made, Harry dropped the shielded pile of letters into his trunk, slid on top of his bed, and pulled the hangings closed as he moved up to rest his back against the head board. Flicking out a bright Lumos with his wand Harry set the wand down beside him and unrolled the letter, a warm steady light washing over the letter as he read.

_Oh Harry,_

It was from Hermione; Harry knew that she had written the letter not only from how the greeting was worded but also from the length of the missive written in her tiny but neat script.

_We came back as soon as we got your letter, but Professor Snape had already taken you. I am so sorry, if I had known they were going to do that I...we would never have left. The headmaster had spoken to us earlier and told Ron and I that we should leave as he had something he needed to talk to you about without distractions._

Distractions, yeah, like being able to ask for help and being able to at least say goodbye to his best friends before he was dragged off to lead a life of servitude was a distraction, Harry thought resentfully as he reread the beginning of the letter.

_Listen, Harry, when we were away from Hogwarts we heard some pretty horrible things. People are saying the most awful things about you. They are not true, I know you never did it, but the Dursleys are dead. Oh Harry, the Prophet is claiming that you did it..._

This was as far as he had gotten in the owlery before he had cast aside the letter and took up the article included in the post. What a way to find out that your only remaining relatives were murdered. According to the article he had read earlier it had happened not long after midnight the night before Dumbledore had called Harry into his office, and now the entire Wizarding world believed the printed lies.

Harry clenched his fists further wrinkling the letter in his hands. Harry took a deep breath and let his anger flow out of him as he continued.

_...and that you are the next dark lord. They even asked Malfoy to give his opinion on your sanity. They asked Malfoy! The son of the man who was Voldemort's most loyal supporter! He is playing off of the falsehood that he is a victim of a horrible childhood raised by a crazed death eater, he is playing off of public sympathy, and they love him. Oh Harry, he is leading a rather angry mob of wizards who are after your blood._

Harry's hand shook. With his anger abated, horror had quite effectively taken its place. Not able to see clearly due to the rush of emotions Harry dropped the letter down beside him, laid one of his many pillows over it, and lunged out of bed to resume his pacing. He knew that it would take him forever to complete his letter at this rate, but the whole situation seemed unreal. Harry did not understand, his thoughts seemed to be all tangled up, he could not even see straight.

Malfoy...that at least did make sense. Harry after all was the one who was responsible for his father getting killed. Oh no, the young hero did not actually strike the killing blow, but he did make the dark wizard doubt the man's loyalties. Harry guessed that that bit of information must have gotten around.

Harry remembered that day clearly. It was the last day of the final battle. He was alone facing Voldemort and his two most trusted servants, Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy.

So even though Voldemort did not know it, it was actually two on two. One of his two most trusted servants was a spy. Harry had known that would not be enough to win, but an idea had struck him. A very Slytherin idea.

As Voldemort had addressed his potions master, Harry let out a cry of rage.

"_Traitor! I knew it, you spineless coward! I knew you had to be in league with him, I knew it and no one would believe me!"_

Voldemort had laughed at the hate and betrayal Harry had purposefully projected. Harry could not see Snape's face at the time to see if he understood enough of what Harry was doing to play along and the younger wizard could not risk anything that would have alerted Voldemort that Harry was lying. So Harry just went on with his plan.

"_Lucius, I asked you over and over again if Snape was working for Tom, you just kept changing the subject! Don't you know how much danger I could have been in! I had class with him daily! I could have been killed!" Harry whined in a spoiled, self-righteous tone emphasizing Voldemort's muggle-given name in an attempt to infuriate him._

Then the downside of the plan had come to hit Harry in full force. Voldemort was consumed with such rage that it had broken through the potions that had been given to Harry to stifle the connection between him and the dark wizard. Harry had never felt such pain in his scar as he had then. He had fought to keep on his feet, to keep from doubling over with the pain of it. Harry could not even focus on Malfoy's rapid denials; Snape's taunts went unheard by the boy. The only thing Harry knew was pain, then suddenly it was over and Malfoy lay dead. Dead by his master's own hands.

Yes, this new strike against Harry just stunk of the younger Malfoy, but how did he learn of what caused his father's death? Only Snape and Voldemort had been there.

Malfoy had to know though; his whole family was big on getting even. Harry had wrongly accused Malfoy Sr. of being a traitor and his master turned on him, now Malfoy the younger had the wizarding world believing that Harry was a traitor and was effectively turning them against their hero.

Knowing Malfoy, he would find the situation fitting.

But would he have gone so far as to kill Harry's relatives…Harry knew the man had no qualms about killing muggles, but there would have been an investigation. Then again, it did not sound like there was.

Anyway, who knew. Harry had a lot of enemies. Perhaps someone else killed the Dursleys and Malfoy just happened to be in the right place to turn Harry's 'loss' to his advantage. It was, after all, a very Slytherin tactic.

Harry growled, he had thought himself in circles not to mention that he was probably wearing a hole in the carpet. He needed more information; he had to go back to the letter. Harry sighed and crept back into his cushioned cave. As he picked up the letter he felt an emptiness inside his chest, he wished his friends were beside him reassuring him and bouncing ideas off of each other just like they always did when there was trouble.

The letter went on for a few more paragraphs about how the wizarding community was reacting to the news that their savior had gone dark. Harry found himself skimming through, he was used to bad reactions from people who closely followed the press and he could not afford to get himself worked up again. Harry wanted to send a letter off to Hermione before it was time for him to go outside again.

Finally the letter turned to the information Harry needed to know.

_Harry, I looked up life-debts. You were right I could not resist, and I learned a lot, but I need some specific information from you to be able to determine the terms, limitations, and obligations of the debt you have incurred. I need to know the exact wording of what was said to you when the life debt was placed upon you. In fact it might just be better to tell me everything that went on in the meeting. I need to know what was said, how it was said, who was there, how you felt, your response, and anything else that you can think of. _

Harry smile in spite of the situation, he could almost see Hermione bustling around the library with books stacked all around her placed in organized piles according to their subject and its relevancy.

_There are twenty-five different classifications of life-debts and three more that are similar to a life-debt but are known as wizards-debts. The difference lies in how the debt was formed, who it was formed with (Enemy, Friend, Relative, Acquaintance, and Stranger), and how the debt was placed upon the debtor. I need to know all of this to be able to divulge the accurate information for your situation. _

Harry closed his eyes. Was nothing simple anymore, then again was it ever?

_There is good news, I think. I cannot find anything that shows that the ministry has caught wind of your new situation yet, then again, if my speculation is correct it may not matter. It all depends…Write me as soon as you are able, I will watch the skies._

_Hermione_

_P.S. Ron would write something, I know he would wish to send his rants…err…regards, but he is still up shouting at the headmaster. He has been up there for over five hours. I stomped out rather angrily after only a half an hour oftheHeadmaster'shalf witted explanation, I figured that I could get more accomplished looking up relevant information, besides blowing up at people is Ron's forte as you well know._

It was strange how someone could feel both less and more lonely at the same time. Still, for the first time in the past two days Harry felt hope. He and his friends had been able to get out of everything they had been through before, they would get through this now. Each had their roles to fill, sure they may be separated, but they were still together where it counted. That would be enough, right?

Harry tucked the letter away in his trunk as he pulled out some parchment, ink, and a quill from amongst his school supplies. Pushing aside the lunch tray, Harry sat down at the desk and began to quill the letter, explaining in detail everything that his friend had asked about. He even went into how Snape's silent treatment had infuriated him, although he tried to keep the correspondence from sounding whiney or immature.

Finally, after writing enough to adequately fill up one of McGonagall's assigned essays, Harry had said all that he needed to and was ready to send it off.

Just before Harry opened his door to head back up to the owlery, he turned and walked back to the desk. No sense in wasting his lunch just because he was not in the mood to eat. Grabbing a couple sandwiches out of the tray for Hedwig, Harry left his room to meet back up with his owl.

The first thing that Harry noticed when he returned to the owlery was that for some reason Hedwig was angry with him. Harry coaxed and crooned to get his bird to come down from the rafters but it was as if she had never even heard him.

"Hedwig, I don't understand? Was it because I left so quickly? I had to; I would have exploded up here. Come on girl. I really need to get this off, it is important. I do not trust any of these other birds to do half as good a job delivering it as you would." Harry pleaded to no avail.

Hedwig just stuck up her beak in protest.

"Hedwig, I am sorry. I must have been very rude with the temper I was in. Would you please forgive me? I brought you up some sandwiches." Harry held the food up in an attempt to lure the owl over to him. It worked, the snowy owl glided down landing on Harry's shoulders; her claws scratching him rather painfully through his sleeve.

"There girl, good girl," Harry winced. "I really did not forget you; I brought you these even before I knew you were mad at me," Harry said holding the food out to her. "There is a bit of a problem going on and I need you to take this letter to Hermione as soon as you are able, okay girl?" After taking a few swift pecks at the sandwich in Harry's hand Hedwig held out her leg so Harry could tie on the parchment. The owl then nipped gently at Harry's ear and took flight out of the owlery.

Harry sighed as he watched her go. He would have patience, he would! As for now, he had a part to play. He had to be a good little house elf. Harry shuddered. He had an hour left to catch up on the reading that he had fallen behind on, then gardening again.

Okay, maybe not be such a good house elf with the gardening…it just had to look authentic.

Harry was over halfway finished with his first book by the time the hour was over, and honestly he had learned quite a bit more than he thought he would have. What had gotten him interested in the book at first was the chance to further his prank on Snape, but now he almost wished to just be able to do what he was doing out of enjoyment. He could finally see what Neville saw in the subject, although Harry knew he would never be quite as good at it as his friend was. There were so many different uses for magical herb, and potion ingredients were only a small part of it.

Then, Harry had also found out how all the plants requiring different temperatures and care could reside within inches from each other, but he would have to wait until they began to grow before he could apply the charms.

Of course, the part that Harry was most pleased with was that he not only found more plants that were prominent ingredients in what Snape would consider asinine potions that were not worth the time it took to brew them, but he found many of them that bloomed bright pink. Perfect way to brighten up him manor, Harry thought vindictively.

When Harry made his way down for his second working shift, he had a rather sardonic glint in his eye. He was looking forward to putting some of his new knowledge to work. Besides, he had some emotions to work off; after all worrying would not make it any easier to get out of the abysmal situation he found himself in.

Anyway he still had people on his side, he would get through this. After all, next to Voldemort how bad could a vengeful Malfoy and an idiotic ministry be? After being enslaved to a war and fighting free, surely a life-debt couldn't be any worse.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

AN: Okay, I have been asked by a couple people how long this is going to be. My guess is that it will be around 80,000-100,000 words. I have planned a definite end, so it will not go one forever.

One of my goals in writing this is to keep at least a little humor in the midst of all the problems as well as really trying to keep them in character…although I do know that war changes people and I am trying to keep that in mind too.

Now for a small bit of bad news. I have finals coming up next week and I am not sure how much time I will have to write the next chapter, it may not come out until after I finish the semester which is in about a week and a half. It should not be much longer than that if any.

I would like to thank everyone for their reviews, I really was not expecting such a response to this story and I am glad that for the most part it has come off well!

By the way, Bookmarker, your poetic review was awesome, it really made my day. Thanks for taking the time to write it!

Also, Padawan Jan-AQ I am honored to be included in your C2, thank you for including my fic!


	8. Nightmares: Sleeping and Awake

Disclaimer: I don't own the HP Universe. I am only borrowing it to give my over active imagination a place to play.

SORRY. I admit, my first week back I was just lazy, but the rest of the time I have been trying to get my school email back so I could contact my beta. Unfortunately, it has not happened. So this chapter is unbetaed.

Okay, next**, I have a live journal now**. The link to this is under the homepage link on my FF.N Profile page.

If you have any **questions** you want answered, contact me through that and I will do my best to answer you.

Also, I am going to start writing **fic recommendations** there. The one that I wrote up today is for a piece not located at this site, so you might want to take a look. It will be worth it, I promise. It is an awesome story.

Thank you so much for the reviews, it really blew me away to see such reaction to this story, I hope you like this chapter!

NOTE: This chapter starts out with a dream sequence. Please do not become confused!

Also: In the letter: _Hermione_ Ron

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

His friends surrounded him, everyone was celebrating. Harry recognized this place, it was the party he had been dragged to, Voldemort's destruction party.

Harry felt the weight that he had carried on his shoulders his entire life drop away. He was free. He looked around, the room was decorated in bright lights, people were so happy that they were dancing, and Harry was grinning ear to ear. The war had ended and life could begin again.

There was just one very strange thing, why was he dressed in Dudley's old rags? He would not have put rags on to go to a party would he? Or did he just get back from fighting Voldemort? He could not remember, his head hurt...or maybe it was his scar. If Voldemort was dead, why did his scar ache?

As Harry contemplated these abnormalities the bright room melted away and Harry found himself once again in the graveyard that had for so long haunted his dreams.

"Hello Harry," purred a familiar voice from behind him. Harry turned around to find himself face to face with Arthur Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley!" Harry cried in surprise, stumbling back and tripping over a broken gravestone. Harry closed his eyes momentarily as his head hit stone. With a low moan Harry opened his eyes and looked up at the familiar red head complexion.

"Mr. Weasley? Since when do you address your best friend by his last name, Potter!" The voice of the younger Weasley hissed in anger.

Harry sat up and shook his head to clear away the fog. "Ron...but your father, he was...how did you get here?"

"You know very well that my father was killed, you were there! You told me of his dying breath. Yet you mock me," Harry never knew that a whisper could sound so deadly.

Dead? Killed? No, he had survived the war. He had stayed by Harry's bed for days as Harry recovered. They had a celebration at the Weasleys house after Voldemort was killed. "This has to be a joke, this has to be some sick joke." Harry blinked and tried to sort through what he had just been told.

"Who jokes anymore? There is no place in this world for such a waste of time." Hermione spoke from where Ron had just stood.

"Ron? Where?"

Hermione looked at Harry as if he had just suggested that Muggles were a myth. "You are sitting on him, Harry."

"What?" Harry jumped off the ground and twisted around to look at the grave stone he had tripped over. "I...but? When? How?"

"Articulate as always, Potter?" A smooth voice sounded from behind him. Harry froze and stiffened as a hand tightly gripped his shoulder and spun him around.

"Not you, no." Harry whispered as he found himself looking up into narrowed black eyes. Harry pulled back only to be held fast by the potion master's firm grip.

"Ah, yes, you want me to leave...and what ever the spoiled, selfish Hero of the wizarding world wants he gets. Is that why you killed them? They no longer worshiped you? Am I next, should I get on my knees and call you master to save my life Potter?"

"I didn't kill anyone...I didn't!" Harry struggled to get out of Snape's grip as it turned painful. The hand let go and Harry was faced with Minister Fudge.

"No? But who will believe you when we have witnesses?" Fudge faded away and Draco Malfoy stood in his place. "I told you that you could never defeat me," Draco's silver eyes turned scarlet. "That I would destroy you."

Harry closed his eyes. This couldn't be real; he was not here. It didn't make any sense!

A scabbed, boney hand painfully grasped Harry's chin and forced it upward. "Open your eyes Harry, this is your life." The voice rasped as a chilling breath hit his face. "Now face your death"

Harry forced his eyes open. "No!" The scabbed face loomed over him slowly descending as it tore the happiness out of Harry's life. The demon's lips met Harry's and he felt his soul rip away, the pain centering in his forehead as his scar burst open.

"No!" Harry opened his eyes. Pitch black. He was lying down wrapped in something; his arms were pinned to his sides. Harry struggled and rolled to free himself, suddenly he was falling.

The world lit up almost blinding Harry with the unexpected brightness of his own room. Harry forced himself to slow his breathing as he sat up on the carpeted floor and slowly untangled himself from the blankets holding him prisoner.

Free from his cloth chains, Harry scooted back so that his back was against the oak frame of his bed and held his knees against his chest as he waited for his trembling body to recover from the dream.

It was the same dream that he had for three nights now, reoccurring every night ever since he received Hermione's letter. His dreams had not been this bad since before Voldemort has been destroyed. Oh God, but they were back now, only Voldemort was no longer the focus. That almost made it worse. Sometimes Harry wondered how it was that he could stand up to the worst Voldemort had to offer in wakefulness, but he was driven to begging in a dream. He hated himself for his weakness. Harry was seventeen years old, almost eighteen. He had faced and defeated the most powerful dark wizard of the age, yet he was brought down to a quivering mess with nothing more than a dream...with nothing more than his own mind. That thought alone made him feel sick.

Harry forced himself to his feet. He felt filthy, he could still feel the damp air of the graveyard on his skin. He needed a shower, scalding hot to burn away the memory of the nightmare.

Once Harry was showered and dressed he sat dawn at the desk and forced down a few bites of eggs, the normally wonderful food tasted like sand to the teenager. Unable to stomach any more of the food Harry grabbed the toast, stuffed it in his pocket, and took his morning walk to the owlery.

As with every morning since his last letter, Harry was almost antsy, hoping that he would receive some answers. Of course, he was also looking forward to seeing a friendly face. Even though Hedwig was not exactly human company...at least she liked him.

Arriving at the owlery, Harry peaked through the door to locate the new pile of howlers that he knew would be there. Spotting the red envelopes piled near the far wall Harry flung the door open and burned the pile to ash. He was not in the mood to listen screaming idiots.

Glaring at the smoldering pile of letters, the teenager never even noticed the white owl flying over him until he felt her talons grip his shoulder as she landed. Harry stiffened thinking that just like in his dream the potions master was behind him. Suddenly something hard and sharp was gently nibbling on his ear.

"Hedwig! It's you!" Harry sighed in relief then brightened. "You're here!"

Hedwig gave a short hoot as if to say. "Obviously."

"Did Hermione..." Hedwig held out her foot. "Oh." Harry said as he relieved his owl of her burden.

_Harry!_

_I have been doing some research, Life/Wizards debts are really fascinating subjects. Did you know that the first known wizard's debt dates back to Merlin himself? Merlin actually owed what was then called a Life Bind to Sir Camoleer to train protect and watch over the future ruler of..._

Harry, I love ya mate, but we have got to get you out of there, if I have to listen to any more of Hermione's research I will go barmy, I swear.

_Oh Ron...Don't listen to him Harry. I am sure you will find the subject as fascinating as I do, really it is one of the wizarding worlds oldest rituals._

Harry shook his head at his friend's antics. "Oh Hermione, I am caught in the middle of a nightmare, and you find it a fascinating subject." Harry grinned and reached up to pat his owl on the head as he read his best friend's remarkably similar reply.

Harry, you're stuck as the greasy git's servant and she thinks it's a bloody excuse to open a book. That's our Hermione for you. Oh! But we did come across something good.

_Well, I think I should give you the bad news first. So far your description of the debt binding ritual does not match any of the classifications of known debts that I have come across._

But we are working on it. mate, we'll get you out of there. I mean, you saved the whole wizarding world from You-Know-Who!

_Oh Ron, he is dead, just say his name! Voldemort!_

Yeah, him. Anyway, that has to mean something.

"If they weren't all after my blood it might have..." Harry sighed as he read on.

Now for the good news, Snape can't actually do anything to hurt you or force you to do something immoral or it will cancel the debt.

_This was actually put into place only a few hundred years ago to keep people from abusing the life debt system. Alfred Warbark made a practice of saving enemy lives during the goblin rebellion only to claim the debt by making the wizard either kill their commanding officer, their family, or else go slowly insane from fighting the debt._

She's been like this all week. I am almost tempted to switch places with you. Anyway, mate, one more thing to be thankful for, as long as you are under a life debt, the ministry can't touch you either.

_Unless you do something illegal while under the debt_.

But that has the added benefit of dragging Snape to Azkaban with you.

"Hedwig, I think Ron's lost his mind if he calls being stuck in a cell with Snape good news..." Harry said still stroking his pet.

_Oh Ronald Weasley, grow up. Harry, do behave, the situation is complicated enough without the ministry involved_.

And watch out for the minister, Dad says that he has been trying to find a way to get to you ever since you disappeared. My whole family is being watched just incase you show up. 'Mione is worried that they may even follow Hedwig to find out where you are.

_I did charm her against being followed, but I am afraid that it could already be too late to do any good. Don't worry though, Harry. They can't touch you as long as you keep your head._

Yeah, be a good boy, Harry, Play nicely. Don't forget to eat all your vegetables!

_Ignore him, Harry. We will contact you as soon as we get any leads. Any let us know anything that might be of any importance or seems odd at all._

_Love,_

_Hermione_ & Ron

P.S. Hermione wrote the love, I don't know whether to sick up or be jealous as hell mate. You lay off my girl. Ah, yeah. Anyway, don't let the git get you down!

Hedwig hooted in Harry's ear and flapped her wings twice causing the wizards hair to look even more wind blown.

"What is it girl." The owl just looked at him and snapped her beak. "Oh!" Harry said as he retrieved the rather squashed bread from his pocket.

"Are you hungry?" Hedwig softly nipped Harry's ear before snatching the toast and flying up to the rafters to join the other owls.

Harry sighed; he had to leave anyway if he wanted to hide the letter in his trunk before it was time to continue in the garden.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Harry found it rather disconcerting that he was actually often enjoying his time working more than his time off. More than once it entered his head that perhaps his food might still be doused in some mind altering potions, but each time he dismissed the idea as ludicrous. Harry had always enjoyed gardening and working with his hands, it kept him from dwelling on everything that was going wrong in his life.

Somehow it felt like he was creating something, bringing the land to life. He had enough of death with the war. The repetitive motions of adding new life to the earth seemed almost like he was replacing perhaps just a little of what the great war of the wizards had destroyed.

But then he would think about what brought him here in the first place and his movements would lose their peaceful fluidity and become the jerky movements of someone trying to control his anger.

He was in this stage of emotion when he heard two familiar voices coming his way. At first they were too far away to make out, but as they came closer he could make out the conversation.

"...is the same as he ever was. Putting on a pathetic display of infantile insolence."

"Still expecting your young ward to get down on bended knees and thank you for all you have done, Severus."

"Just keeping a civil tongue seems to require more active brain matter than the boy possesses, I shall not hold my breath for anything beyond that Albus."

Harry stood and turned to meet his visitors just and they had stepped up behind him. Harry had already been in a rather foul mood at the time, and the portion of conversation that he had overheard had done little to improve his disposition.

The young wizard narrowed his eyes but did manage a curt nod of greeting to the two professors.

"Ah, Harry, my boy, how are you doing? Beautiful day to be outside is it not?" Dumbledore commented as if he had just been invited over for tea.

Harry bit his tongue and forced his expression to melt from anger into calm neutrality. Hermione had warned him not to make waves, and it was far too soon to give in to the urge to make his feelings about his situation known.

"As I said, he lacks the decency and respect to maintain a civil conversation, although perhaps this silent treatment of his is a bit more endurable than his usual attempt at attracting attention by howling and making an utter fool of himself. Perhaps we should enjoy the peace while it lasts."

"Ah, Severus, have a little patience. I am sure Harry just needs a little bit of time to come to terms with his current situation. No need to be so severe." Dumbledore said, his god damn eyes once again twinkling.

"His impudence astounds even me, but this puerile display of self-pity will end now." Snape turned tolook Harry directly in the eyes. "You will answer when you are asked a question, or is the concept to complex a matter for your simple brain?" Snape said, his eyes darkening dangerously.

Harry slowly took a deep breath, he would not be goaded into acting irrationally.

Snape narrowed his eyes, the dark orbs glinting with an emotion that Harry could not quite read. "Speak Harry Potter, as I wish it, you must fulfill it."

A wave of dizziness hit Harry nearly making him lose his balance. Speak, he had to speak!

No. NO! He did what Snape had wanted...he would play servant to the man, but his voice, his thoughts would remain his own. But it hurt! Harry ground his teeth together in an effort to fight the power burning through him. His own power! It felt as if it were ripping away from him. The more Harry fought the command, the sharper the pain. Harry clenched his fists and tried to will away the burning in his eyes. But the feeling of his own magic trying to tear away became too much.

"You sadistic bastard! If you think that I will thank you for what ever the hell you've done to me you have another thing coming. I've played the servant all my life, and I refuse to be yours forever no matter what you think you've got over me." Harry raged, the pain inside, ironically, was lessening with every word.

"Harry, my boy! He saved your life."

"For which I was quite grateful until he decided that because he saved it...that it belonged to him. What the hell is a saved life good for if it is just taken away again? Answer me that oh great and wise puppet master." Harry growled, his tone deadly quiet.

"All in all, I think I preferred him silent." Snape hissed, his eyes once again glittering with an unreadable emotion. "I release you from my command, keep to your silence if you so desire, it matters not to me. I have no use for your inane teenage rambling."

All at once Harry felt lighter as if he had been carrying around a heavy rock for all his life and was suddenly able to set it down. He also felt strangely...stronger. The wizard felt his breathing turn slightly erratic as his mind and body fought to keep up with the new sensations coursing through his body.

Snape narrowed his eyes and almost seemed to stare straight through Harry before turning on his heels and briskly walking back towards his house.

"Harry, please be calm, your situation does not have to be as dire as you are making out to be." Dumbledore said calmly.

With the choice given back to him, Harry chose to remain silent. The headmaster of Hogwarts shook his head and followed after the irate potions master.

"Was that really necessary, Severus? Was that really wise?" Harry heard the headmaster ask, his voice fading. He never heard the reply.

Harry attacked the ground, anger fueling his actions driving him to work with greater speed. He had just another hour before he could quit for the day, and after what just happened...well, Harry had a letter to write.

It chilled him to feel the power behind the life debt. He had never felt anything like it before. It truly felt as it had been described to him. His very own magic bound him to fulfill the terms of the debt. How could he fight himself?

The time passed quickly and soon the sun began to set. Harry stood, dusted himself off and headed back to his room. His head was still buzzing with the events of the day. It was odd, though, that his anger had turned into an almost sardonic amusement. He finally got to tell Snape exactly what he had thought of the man throughout this entire ordeal. Not only that, but the man had asked, no, he had demanded Harry to speak his mind. It was almost worth it.

Almost.

Strange though, that Harry did not reap anything worse than a glare for his actions. Perhaps it was as Ron had said; Snape could not really do anything to him for fear of rendering the debt annulled. He had a lot of questions for Hermione, he just hoped to finally get some answers.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

AN: Once again, if you have any questions, visit my livejournal. User name: SiriuslySeverus


	9. Snape Sniping

Disclaimer:

I own nothing  
But don't dismay  
I'll write my story anyway

ATTENTION: ALL AUTHOR'S NOTES WILL BE AT MY LIVE JOURNAL WHICH YOU CAN ACCESS FROM MY PROFILE PAGE. Thank you. :)

Please enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 9

Rap, Rap, Rap. Three short, pointed knocks resounded from the bedroom door jolting Harry's attention away from the book he was reading. Harry had no reason to wonder who was knocking, the sound all but screamed Snape. Strange how even knocking on a door fit his personality.

The words 'Come in' were about the furthest thing from Harry's mind, he had still not forgiven the man for what had occurred the day before. The sensation of his magic ripping away from him, the feeling of it tearing apart no matter for how brief a time it had been...it had followed him into his dreams. Needless to say, he did not sleep much last night.

Harry resolutely ignored the sound, not even bothering to hope that Snape would get the point and clear off...or maybe just jump off a cliff without a broom. Yeah, that would be nice...Or not, Harry really did not want Snape dead, not deep down anyway. Perhaps he could do the cliff thing and Harry could save him thereby canceling the debt. That would be better. Maybe.

The handle lightly creaked as it turned; the door smoothly opened. Snape entered the room, completely ignoring his lack of invite, and scanned the slightly disorderly room with a sneer. After only a few seconds the man's gaze fell on Harry.

Finally noticing that he was being watched, Harry averted this attention from the man and tried to focus his concentration back on the book.

The standard charm to prevent pipe blockage as invented by Pippin Plumbly only works in the northern hemisphere due to the directional flow of the water. For wizards in the southern hemisphere, the wand movement must be reversed to achieve the desired results.

Snape was watching him. Harry could feel the man's displeasure vibrate in the air. Snape hated to be ignored. Well he could just deal with it.

Standard charm to prevent...

Didn't he read that already? Harry briefly closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his focus. He had to concentrate, ignore the imposing man with beady black eyes, sallow appearance, and issues with anger management.

The standard charm to...

Crap. Harry set the book down on the desk and swiveled in his chair to face Snape.

The man raised his eyebrow; the gesture was almost mocking and showed no sign of anger.

"So, you finally deem it time to cease this idiotic conduct and face me? Your infantile attitude is rather more infuriating than usual." The elder wizard spoke almost offhandedly.

Harry, already furious with the man quickly grew tired of the casually delivered insults. He had no plan to cooperate with Snape at all. He would not make this easy for the man, what ever it was that Snape wanted.

His face must have reflected his thoughts.

"Perhaps I spoke prematurely. Your foolishness must be an ingrained trait. Let me make it clear to you, you will either cease this behavior of yours, or we will have a repeat performance of yesterday."

"What do you want, Snape." Harry's voice turned ugly with distain.

"Respect, for one. I may not be your professor any longer, but I will in no way tolerate your insolence. You will address me with the proper title as before. Have I made myself clear, or shall I use smaller words to compensate for your absolute lack of mental capability?"

"Perfectly clear, sir." Harry spat. "If I may, sir." He continued with exaggerated courtesy. "Perhaps I could inquire after your visit. What is it that you require of me, sir."

Snape scowled deeply at the young man's sarcasm, but refrained from commenting on it. Snape averted his eyes from Harry and gazed disinterestedly around the room.

"I will be entertaining visitors the day after tomorrow who will, I am certain, desire to observe you during their stay; you will, of course, be on your best behavior." Or else. There was definitely an or else in there somewhere despite the fact that it had been left unsaid.

"As you wish." Harry said sardonically.

Snape turned back to look at Harry, his expression portraying absolute seriousness.

"Or perhaps you do not have any manners to utilize. As I know you are not lacking in imagination, from all the time you spent day dreaming in my class, perhaps you could imagine yourself a wizard with at least a common amount of etiquette, lest you find yourself in a rather unpleasant circumstance."

"Fine, you made your point. I will be a good boy, now if you would be so kind as to leave me alone..." Harry picked up the book again and found his place. He did not even bother trying to read the text before him, he would just end up rereading the same paragraph. Again.

"You, Mr. Potter, are growing more insolent every day. At one time, you used to treat me with respect. Lapsing back into your previous, appalling habits is not helping you project an appearance of maturity and further is in no way fulfilling your objective of causing me to identify with the distress you have over your current situation. Quite the opposite I assure you." Snape's voice sounded exasperated. It rather confused Harry, he had expected the man to become enraged at being ignored. In fact, he almost wanted it. He wanted Snape to feel as betrayed, hurt, and angry as Harry did right now.

"Perhaps" Harry replied, his voice heated, "I used to treat you with respect because I used to respect you. You know, back in the day when I thought I had cause to trust you with my life. Look just where that got me. To hell with respect. I will call you sir and do your little chores, biding my time until this thing wears off, but you cannot make me like it, you can not make me like you. Things change when people turn on you.

"Well, at least it is obvious why you were never placed in Hufflepuff." Snape sneered

"Only you could make that sound like an insult"

"It is only an insult if you actually fancy yourself loyal."

"Loyal?" Harry growled. "And I have reason to remain loyal to you? You used me!"

"And that is why you were not in Slytherin." Snape stepped forward and bent down to look straight at Harry "You never did have the ability to see beyond your own narrow viewpoint."

"For your information, I refused your house. Thank Merlin I did, I might have turned out just as demented as the rest of you." Harry retaliated, scooting back in the chair away from Snape. "Full of deception and schemes and...and tricks, caring for nothing beyond yourselves." Harry stood and glared at the man. "That, and of course the fact you would have expelled me my...Very. First. Day. Due to a childish grudge against a man I never even knew. All things considered, I preferred my house, thanks. At least there I never had to worry about being backstabbed by my very own head of house. At least there I was not trained how to lie and cheat my way through life."

"Yes, better to rush head first into danger without any preparation whatsoever. Your life motto, Potter? Perhaps had you actually used caution, or dare I say, cunning occasionally, you would not be in this distressing circumstance you presently find yourself. Perhaps, Mr. Potter, you should look to yourself instead of every other available person when casting blame. When one is as reckless as you have been, there is no escaping the great host of problems that ultimately arise."

"Must have really sucked when a reckless eleven year old Gryffindor got past your oh so carefully planned puzzle you created to keep the Sorcerer's stone safe." Harry read the truth in the man's eyes. "Hit a sore spot, Have I?" He challenged.

"Must have really sucked" Snape hissed using Harry's own words against him. "To be down on your knees in the dirt doing the bidding of the man's, whose conundrum you deciphered in your first year, House elf's bidding."

What could he say to that? What was worse is that while he had indeed gotten past Snape's puzzle, he was in no way the one who figured it out. That somehow made Snape's last statement even worse. Harry felt sick to his stomach; all said and done Snape had won. Harry could argue and snipe all he wanted, but the reality of the situation stayed the same. Snape would always have the final taunt. And he would be right. It was Harry's fault he was in this situation. He hated admitting it, but ignoring the fact would not make it any less true.

If Harry had acted with just a little more caution, Snape would never have been able to catch him in a life debt. In fact, Harry was not even certain how many of said debts he actually owed the man.

Harry sighed, his spark of retaliation melted away into what could almost pass as reluctant acceptance of the situation.

"I won't embarrass you in from of your guests." Harry said, all of a sudden weary of arguing.

Snape narrowed his eyes as if trying to see if Harry was serious. Finally appearing satisfied, Snape gave an abrupt nod. "See that you don't" He warned before walking away and leaving Harry alone to contemplate all that was said.

After a few moments Harry walked over and shut the door Snape had left wide open as he vacated Harry's room; the boy then started pacing as he reviewed the infuriating conversation in his mind.

Somehow Harry felt as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with half the pieces gone and no picture to work from. Snape was not acting like Harry had been expecting, although nowhere near lacking in malicious invectives, he never fully lost his temper with Harry as the man so often did back when the boy was his student. Snape also appeared to be almost hinting at something. Probably just that Harry could be sent to Azkaban if he did not do exactly what Snape wanted. Harry already knew that, but he was not altogether certain that Snape knew of his awareness of that fact.

So he was threatening Harry with Azkaban if Harry was not nice to Snape's friends.

Snape had friends? Who in the world would be friends with...no getting off the subject. Snape did not forewarn Harry of Albus' arrival, so what is different now.

Suddenly it hit him; stupid, he knew he should have seen it sooner. Hermione had warned him of it. The minister had been seeking Harry's locality ever since his disappearance. Hermione had speculated that the ministry may have already tracked Hedwig to Harry's location.

What now bothered Harry is that he knew for a fact that Snape hated the minister. Well, either that or he was a terrific actor who had a soft spot for incompetent fools who were blind to everything past their own ambition. That just did not seem possible from the man who so thoroughly discouraged ineffectual behavior in the company he kept.

So why was he so insistent in warning Harry to keep his temper? Unless what Ron said was true. Now that Snape held Harry under a life debt, he would have to answer for what ever Harry did while serving under said debt.

Great, all he needed to have happen is to share a cell with an enraged Snape while still under the obligation of a life debt. That, he knew, was one thing he would never survive. No wonder Hermione had warned him to keep a cool head. At least as it was now there was an entire house between them; Harry had no desire to reduce that down to a single cell. If only for that reason alone he would keep his word.

Now how to deal with having the minister confront him, as Harry knew he would, about the death of his relatives. He had to do what Snape had inadvertently suggested, apply a little cunning to the situation. Harry would not do well to rush headlong into the conversation like a Gryffindor. He had to work out what he would say. Even from the words of an innocent man the minister could twist out a confession of guilt.

As for what to claim he knew of the situation, Harry was not a good enough actor to hide the fact that he knew his aunt, uncle, and cousin were killed; especially not if questioned using magical means. But what to say?

Strategizing was not Harry's greatest strength, but he had the rest of the day to give it his all. He would survive this. After all, he was not given the despised nick name of the-boy-who-lived for nothing. And he would survive this, minister or not.


	10. Following a whisper

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I am in poverty with how much I do not own here. I've got nothing, even my username belongs to J.K.R .

:Snickers and holds out cup: Reviews? Reviews for the poor?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Chapter 10

Harry thought, and he paced, and he worked, and he thought some more. No matter how much work he did or how much effort he put into it he could not drive away the worry of the coming of the impending visitors. No matter how much he deliberated, he could not seem to figure out what to say. He knew the minister would be there, there was little doubt in his mind about that. He also knew that the Minister believed him to be guilty, nay, wanted him to be guilty. How could he convince anyone of his innocence if they did not care about the facts?

Harry's nightly nightmares were now in the forefront of his mind. He was no seer, and he knew his dreams had nothing to do with the future, but they had a lot to do with reality and past experience. Harry had dealt with Fudge many times in the past. With no proof to back up his accusations, Fudge had maligned Harry's name for years while the boy was still back at Hogwarts. Harry knew from experience that everything he said would be twisted, and fighting with Fudge would only add fuel to the fire.

But that didn't mean there was nothing Harry could do. No, not at all.

If following Hedwig was truly the way that the minister found him, than it must be obvious that Harry had some news of what was going on in the wizarding world. That, of course, meant the Harry could not lie about the fact that he knew what happened to his family. If he started out with such an obvious lie, it would be the proof Fudge needed to convince the world of Harry's guilt.

It was driving him crazy; the not knowing what was going to happen. Harry knew that with the life debt in place, the ministry could not cart him away to Azkaban. Somehow, that offered little comfort. Harry may not have grown up knowing every nuance of the wizarding world, but even he knew that with magic available Azkaban was the least of his worries. What was legal for the minister to do to him while Harry was held under a life debt? That was what Harry really wanted to know. Well, at least one of the things.

Tomorrow would be the day, Harry had a feeling that everything would become a lot clearer after the visitors had arrived and departed. Perhaps, Harry may even figure out why Snape had required this method of payment for life debt that Harry owed him. Or perhaps it would just be confirmed how big a bastard Snape truly was.

One more night. Harry could get through one more night. And perhaps this night he would actually sleep.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was dark behind his bed curtains, but Harry knew was time to get up. His internal clock told him it was approximately breakfast time. This was it. This was the day. The big day.

Harry laughed to himself. If his thoughts were not so morose, they could almost resemble one of Oliver Wood's Quidditch pep talks. Well, if it was a Quidditch pep talk, the next line would be, "The day we show the other team who we really are." Somehow they seemed to fit this situation as well. It really was time to get out of bed; Harry had no desire to be called upon in his present state of undress. Groaning, Harry threw back the bed Curtains and slipped out of his bed.

After completing his morning routine, Harry once again found himself out in Snape's Garden. It had been more than a week since Harry had first come to be Snape's new gardener, and Harry finally had nearly finished planting the new seeds. But that did not mean that Harry was done with his task, no, not by far. After he had completed planting the seeds Harry would still have to add the to each plant their individual temperature, moisture, and lighting charms that he had found during his perusal of Snape's book.

Actually, if all went well Harry should have this walkway completed by the end of the day; that is if the people coming to visit Snape did not hold him up too long.

Crap! Harry briefly closed his eyes in annoyance, he had been doing so well not dwelling on the upcoming visit. Harry's heart began to beat faster. He was not ready for this. He had just defeated the darkest wizard of his time; he really did not have the patience to deal with an idiotic ministry.

Harry heard a door slammed shut. A loud arrogant tone of voice came from just the outside the House, but Harry could not make out the words. Harry knew that the time had come, but he did not want to turn around and be seen watching them as they came. He felt that it would show concern, and that was easily translated into weakness. But oh, how he wanted to know who all was there.

Harry did not have to wait long, within moments the voices became clearer.

". . . Wretch here in the garden?"Came the loud voice that Harry now recognized as Fudge's.

"And what," Snape commented calmly. "Would you have me keep him in, the kitchens? Were he not such a natural disaster at Potions his disposition would lead me to believe that he might take it upon himself to poison the food. As it stands, I prefer my food edible and not burned to various shades of charcoal."

Harry scowled at the dirt beneath him. Snape had spoken with such derision in his voice that it brought Harry back to the time before they had to work together to defeat Voldemort. He was momentarily saddened that the understanding he had once worked so hard to achieve now seemed to be lost forever. It was Snape's fault though. Snape took it upon himself to revert back to his putrid personality; there was nothing Harry could have done any differently that would have kept the man from choosing this course of action. Was there?

Harry was startled of his thoughts by the sound of a third voice. It was a familiar drawl. Oh God! He recognized that voice. It couldn't be... Snape would not do that to him. Oh, but this was Snape, of course he would do this to Harry. Snape was after all an unmitigated bastard. After all, what kind of a person would bring someone's worst childhood enemy to taunt him when he would be unable to fight back. Ah, but he had his answer.

Harry's blood ran cold. Draco Malfoy. The boy, no, man who swore he would do anything to make Harry suffer. It was worse than he had thought. With Draco's here, it appeared as if the minister had already decided on his guilt... although the article from the daily prophet and what Hermione said in her letters had pretty much brought him to that conclusion already. It was almost worse than when Fudge brought McNair to Buckbeak's trial.

"I must say, Severus. It is good to see the boy who lived in the dirt where he belongs. I do hope you are keeping an eye on him, he is said to be the next... Dark Lord." Harry could hear Malfoy's smirk, just in the tone of his voice.

"Yes... Yes keep an eye on the boy. It would not do for him to get out hand, not so close after we disposed of the last one." Fudge said in a bumbly agreeable tone.

Harry seethed as he struggled to compose himself. Harry could not ignore the intruders much longer without being blatantly rude, and as tempting as it was...it would not help matters. After taking a calming breath Harry slowly stood and turned to face the three unwelcome visitors.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked in a calm, low voice... The only thing giving away how truly felt was the fury smoldering in his eyes.

The three men stared at the boy. Harry had been correct about who they were. Fudge was standing slightly ahead of the other two, as if he had been the one leading the procession. Fudge looked at Harry suspiciously, as if he were expecting Harry to do something... Something illegal, something wicked. Draco Malfoy on the other hand wore a greedy, smug expression on his face. His arms were crossed, and his eyes twinkled with malicious delight.

Snape just looked as unapproachable as always, his dark hair hanging around his face shading his eyes from the afternoon sun.

Fudge stepped closer to the young wizard. His eyes wandered up and down, taking in Harry's appearance before sneering at the boy in a poor imitation of the Potions professor.

"My, my how the mighty have fallen. You should be in Azkaban, boy. No, even the dementors would be too good for you after what you did your family." Fudge seemed to preen himself, displaying an air of confidence. Of course he had a lot to be confident about, he, after all had two fully trained wizards backing him up.

Harry did not lean back as Fudge moved closer. He refused to show weakness.

"After what I did to my family?" Harry questioned in the same calm voice. "As I did nothing to my family, I assume you mean... What was done to my family. Minister, I had no hand in that."

"Ah, so you admit to know about it. But how would you know about it, hiding here, unless you committed the crime in the first place." Fudge said crossing his arms with a smug look upon his face.

"I heard whispers." Harry said vaguely not wanting to fully admit in Snape's hearing that he had been receiving owls. "Words do fly most readily upon the air. I suspect that's how you found I was here. You followed a whisper did you not?"

"Do not speak riddles to me boy, I have no use for your. . . Your. . . You have no right speak to me! Keep your tongue, boy." Fudge said flustered and turning red.

Harry fought to hide his grin. Despite his annoyance and anger at the situation, Harry was finding himself to be ever so slightly amused. He began to identify with Snape's vocal brutality. It was almost enjoyable to taunt someone with so little intelligence. Actually Harry was surprised to find that Snape had not stepped in yet to keep Harry in line.

Harry crossed his arms and stared expectantly at the minister waiting for the man to get on with his business. Although Harry's stare was nowhere near being at all malicious, the minister began backing up mumbling incoherently before facing Snape.

"See there you have it. He's planning, plotting, thinking up ways to... Do something... something evil." The minister spoke frantically eyes darting at Harry. "I want him locked up. I won't have it any other way! I want him in Azkaban, now!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the minister, trying and succeeding at keeping the fear churning around in his stomach hidden. Azkaban. God he couldn't go to Azkaban, being locked up in a cold dreary sell cell... That alone would drive him insane. Harry could not even begin to think about dementors...the cold, the pain, the sorrow... the guilt. Harry just took a deep breath and kept his features passive.

"And deprive me of collecting on my debt. That, minister, is rather illegal. I do believe you'll find in all cases that have been brought to trial, the verdict remains the same. Until the completion of the life debt, you hold no influence whatsoever regarding Harry Potter." Harry turned to look at Snape just in time to catch his black eyes narrowing and his entire face harden seeming to dare the minister to disagree. Harry knew that no matter what the Fudge may think about the matter he would not argue with Snape when he was looking like that, the man just wasn't that brave. Inside Harry laughed at the porky wizard. Yet at the same time he cursed Snape, Harry knew all too well what it was like to be in that situation. Harry knew all too well what was like have Snape staring over as if you were a dunderhead, a complete fool, and standing in his way. But still he could enjoy a little sardonic amusement at the minister's expense.

"Of course Severus, the Potter brat the is all yours, provided he truly is under the life debt that you claim you hold over him." Malfoy drawled, throwing a pointed look at the minister.

"Yes... Yes. Must make sure everything is lawful. After all we wouldn't want any criminal behavior to slip to the cracks. Must follow procedure after all." The minister commented, regaining his agreeable behavior once more. "Draco, I assume you brought the vial."

"Do you really have asked?" Malfoy droned. "I wouldn't miss this for the world. The chance to see the boy who lived unable to keep from spilling his hidden secrets, helpless to do anything but speak the truth, and finally getting what he deserves. There is no way I would have forgotten the vial." Malfoy continued with a smirk.

Harry didn't like the sound of that. This whole thing was illegal, how was he expected to fight fair if everything they were doing was illegal. Veritaserum. How the hell was he supposed to continue trying to be Slytherin if they kept changing rules on him.

"That's illegal." Harry said, his voice losing its steady quality.

"Why Potter. I don't believe there's anyone present who gives a damn." Malfoy looked down at his ex-schoolmate and sneered. "Shall I proceed minister? As fun as this is, I do have other responsibilities to attend to."

"Yes... yes, let's get on with this business. Unless you're planning on making a scene, Professor Snape." The minister said, almost daring Snape to disagree. If Harry didn't know for fact that the minister would soil his pants the moment that Snape looked at him funny, Harry would have thought the man had guts.

Harry looked over at Snape fighting desperately to keep the plea from his eyes, but he could not help hoping deep inside that Snape would put a stop to this. In most cases Veritaserum would prove his innocence, but in the hands of an incompetent fool of a minister and a Malfoy, who knew what new juicy tidbits about the boy-who-lived that they could drag out of him to twist and spread across the pages of The Daily Prophet in order to cause him more grief.

"Make a scene." Snape said slowly, his words laced with distain. "Hardly. As I am immune to the potion, I can hardly expect the regular procedure to stand in this case. As you seem to have your heart set on using your..." Snape paused and a slight grimace ghosted across his face as he glanced at the bottle of clear liquid that Draco held in his hand. The expression was gone an instant later, smoothly melting into his almost constant sneer. "Potion, if it is fit to be called that...do continue then, I shall not stand in the way."

So much for hoping that Snape would not put up with the unlawful distribution of the potion, Snape had no intention of putting a stop to the minister's cruel intentions. Fudge nodded and with a wave of his hand he wordlessly gave Draco permission to proceed. Draco's smile grew crueler.

"Open wide, Potter." Malfoy mocked. "Oh, come on Potter, just a little."

Harry lost all semblance of his former calm. He began to slowly back away from the group.

"Oh no you don't, Potter." Malfoy sneered. "Severus, if you'd be so kind." the blonde wizard waved his hand towards Harry.

Severus raised his eyebrows at the boy and crossed his arms, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "The two of you come here together, and are unable to handle one young wizard. Or did you come expecting to rely on my assistance?"

"You truly expect me to put my life in danger by consorting too closely with this ... criminal." The Minister looked affronted at the very thought.

"Very well." Snape said with a sneer. Snape smoothly stepped behind Harry only to grasp him by the shoulders in order to keep him from fighting back or from running away. "You would do well to... comply with the minister's demands. Things would go, smoother." The man whispered fiercely in Harry's ear.

Harry froze, not of any compliance to Snape's demands but because this was part of his nightmare. Snape holding him from behind. God, it was coming true, but it didn't make any sense, Ron and Hermione were alive. It was just a nightmare; just because it was the same damn one every night did not mean that it would come true. Harry began to tremble. It was not noticeable to anyone looking at him, but Harry knew Snape could feel it. Harry knew that Snape finally had indisputable proof that he had at last gotten to the boy who lived. Harry tried to cover his fear by once again attempting to get away, but it was useless. The man behind him had been a seasoned death eater, spy or not, and was well train in keeping his victims exactly where he wanted them.

"This is illegal. This is illegal and you know it. You can't do this, nowhere is there a rule book that states a law anywhere in its pages that says you can force Veritaserum on anyone, life debt or not. In fact, it is and has always been quite the opposite. I know my rights." Harry spoke boldly; shoulders tensed an effort not to bolt.

Harry stance did not show his fear, nor did it show his anger. Aside from the slight shaking that only Snape could feel, Harry's stance now only showed his bravery and defiance. Harry's entire body was hardened; from his tense, squared back shoulders, eyes narrowed in retaliation, to his lips pressed down and white from the pressure. But Harry was scared; he was also quite livid. He was being threatened, and just as when he fought Voldemort, he didn't respond well to threats. He wouldn't break down, that is what they wanted. Harry was not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break down under his duress.

"He is the minister, Harry. He is the law. He can do whatever he wants. You have no rights." Malfoy taunted waving the small bottle full of clear liquid mockingly in front of Harry. Malfoy lowered his voice, his eyes gleaming as he taunted Harry. "Besides, who would ever believe you over the minister himself?"

As Malfoy stepped nearer, Harry's hand inched toward his wand ... only to be swiftly snatched by Snape's hand and held almost painfully behind his back.

Fudge narrowed his eyes. "I saw that, the boy was about to attack. Really Snape, wouldn't it be safer for everyone if you just canceled your claim to the boy and sent him to prison where he belongs? Even now he's so dangerous you have to restrain him just to get through this little procedure."

"Ah, yes. So you would sit back quietly and let a lifetime enemy accompanied by a political entity who is well known for trying to make your life miserable to minister an illegal truth potion ... And you would not struggle whatsoever? How...intriguing." Snape's tone was one of amusement. It felt to Harry as if the man was laughing at him.

Draco stepped closer, now only inches away from Harry's face. Harry tensed further, everything that was in him and wanted to attack his three tormentors. But that would only earn him a one-way ticket to Azkaban, life debt protecting him or not, and with the way Snape was holding his arm and shoulder, was proof in itself that Snape did not have much love for the dementors either. Harry did remember Hermione's letter, anything unlawful that Harry did while under Snape's debt ... Snape would be held responsible as well.

One of Malfoy's hands gripped Harry's jaw. His hands were cool and uncomfortable, the touch sent shivers of revulsion down Harry's spine. Harry concentrated on his breathing; he focused with everything that was in him to force his last meal to remain in his stomach where it belonged.

Draco's hand forced Harry's clenched jaw apart. The newly graduated Malfoy heir bent closer to Harry, his lips brushing against Harry's ear. Harry once again began to feel queasy.

"This would all be much faster with magic, but being muggle raised and all ... I am sure you identify with this method even more. Besides, it is much more personal." Draco hissed softly in his ear. His hate filled voice lowered even further as he continued; Harry had to strain to hear him. "And believe me, this is personal."

Harry felt something cold and smooth press against his lip. A drop of liquid fell on his tongue quickly followed by two more, tasteless. Harry's vision began to go blurry, but even through the haze Harry could see the malicious smile Malfoy wore as he stepped back and watched Harry go limp under the effects of the potion. Snape slowly lowered Harry down to the ground once the boy's legs no longer held him up.

Harry heard voices, but as they were not directed to him he really could not bother with the effort put forth to understand what they were saying. Then someone said his name. Harry turned to the speaker completely at attention. He could not make out the face, nor could he tell the voice belonged to, but it seemed imperative that Harry listen to the man.

"Harry Potter, is it true that Severus Snape saved your life on at least one occasion?"

Harry was sent back to his first year in his memory. He was once again up on his broom. It was jerking and swaying, having nothing to do with the wind. He was going to fall. He could hold on much longer. Suddenly the jerking slowed and Harry was able to once again get a grip on the handle. He couldn't pull himself up yet, the broomstick was still moving too erratically. Suddenly it stopped and Harry was once again on his Nimbus 2000 and feeling rather sick.

Now he was in a dark room lit only by next. He wasn't alone, but the man with him was not who he had expected.

"No, I tried to kill you." Quirrel had said. Snape, the cruelest man at the school had been trying to save him, save Harry. It had blown his mind.

Harry did not remember saying anything, but the man who questioned him seemed satisfied. There was a pause. Harry looked around uninterested. Nothing seemed important; he did not know why he was here, but then again he really did not care.

"Is it true that you now or at one time owed Severus Snape a life debt?"

Harry once again found himself being thrown back in time. He was with the headmaster.

"Then he did something Snape could never forgive. He saved his life," the headmaster had said.

Time was repeating itself. One enemy protecting another. But Snape had gone over and above any debt that he owed Harry's father. At least once a year Harry got himself into one life threatening situation or another. Somehow Snape was always there to save him, to pull him back. Harry felt it weighing on him, gratitude ... something else. Annoyance? No, Harry owed Snape his life, and just as with Snape and his father a debt had been incurred. Harry didn't even know how many had built up over the course of the years.

There was a pause and Harry was released from his memories. It did not take long before the voice was back and questioning him again.

"What leads you to believe that you are under life debt right now?"

Snape and Dumbledore were talking to him, but he would not say a word. He felt angry and betrayed. Then Snape had commanded him to speak. He did not want to speak, but he felt as if his voice would burst out of him anyway. He had to say something, anything. He wouldn't, Harry refused to give in. Agony tore through him. His magic was tearing away, binding him to Snape's command. Forcing Harry to do Snape's will.

The voice spoke again, but it was not directed at Harry. Harry took no notice, words were meaningless. Empty noise to fill the silence. Other voices, different voices joined with the first voice. The noise level grew and then suddenly tapered off. A different voice commanded Harry's attention.

"What are you hiding?"

The question didn't make any sense. What was there to hide? There is nothing of such importance that would want hiding. It would be too much trouble, it would disrupt the silence. Harry stared straight ahead, not acknowledging the question. The voice repeated itself, louder and impatient.

Once again the voices joined together in a symphony of indistinguishable babble. Harry was once again unconcerned.

Once again Harry was addressed, this time the question was one he could answer.

"What about your life would you not want the wizarding world to find out? What is it that you don't even tell your friends?"

Harry was in the infirmary once again, he had been distracted and his head was in the clouds. Harry didn't notice the stairways changing, and the next flight of steps he went up had a missing step. Harry had been so startled that he threw back his arms and fell down the few steps he had just climbed. He had fractured his leg, and had lain at the foot of the stairs until he was found by Miss Norris. Filch had cackled with delight when he had arrived to drag Harry rather painfully to the hospital wing.

The voices buzzed again, this time they were punctured with what Harry did not really care to recognize as laughter. The voice returned, it once again asked a question, its tone was drenched in annoyance.

"What in your life, in your past, would destroy you in the eyes of public opinion, what are you so desperate to keep the world from finding out that you would hide away rather than face the public knowing?"

He was back at the Dursleys. His aunt was dragging him by his ear. "You useless freak. How dare you mention anything to do with magic in this house. There is no such thing, you hear me, there is no such thing as magic."

It was dinner. Aunt Marge was visiting. Everyone else has filled up their plates; by the time the dishes of food reached Harry all that was left was the soggy vegetables. "I don't know why you keep this boy, Vernon. If he had been abandoned at my doorstep I would have sent him to the orphanage straight away. Especially with the useless parents this one had. Bad breeding, you know."

It was a hot day outside. He still had to rake the leaves and finish weeding his aunt's flower bed. A boy about his own age, with sandy blond hair came over to him. "Hi, I am Anthony. What's your name? " Harry answered the boy. The boy looked scared. "You, you are Dudley's cousin. I ... I am not allowed to talk to, um, strangers." The boy turned around and quickly walked off.

It was dark in the cupboard, and six year old Harry was crying silently. He was lonely. Aunt Petunia had seen the spiders crawling around and had yanked Harry out of his tiny room screaming for Vernon and blaming Harry for the infestation. Dead. The only living things that did not shrink in disgust at the site of him were dead. It was his fault that they were killed, if only he had stood in front of the creatures so that his aunt did not see. Now all he was left with were the carcasses left clinging to the walls, the loneliness, and the need to keep it from happening ever again.

A loud voice abruptly broke through the fog. The memories cleared. The voices began to talk again, louder this time, arguing, angry. After a while something cold touched his lips, liquid spilled onto his tongue and he swallowed. His head cleared and he knew where he was.

Harry fought himself sitting in the dirt; he vaguely remembered getting there. He closed his eyes to try to remember what had just happened. The minister, Malfoy, truth serum, Snape holding him. Harry did not remember what he had said, but the memories that had been flying through his mind were still fresh. Harry was mortified.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Yay! Done with another chapter. And if you did not see it in my LJ let me reiterate. Voice recognition programs in no way what so ever make writing go any faster. Quite the opposite I assure you.

Anyway, thank you so much for your reviews, they really do help, especially when one is in a mental bind.

And congrads to Padawan Jan-AQ for guessing Draco's involvement in this chapter.


End file.
